


' - t 




























































THE 


LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE 



















































" mm 


Mi 




mm 




m 


■ . 


I told thee so, senor! 

a 


See ! she is leading him as gentle 
lamb. — Page 152. 


as 



THE 


Little Lady of the Horse 

" 

EVELYN RAYMOND 



SE p 1 1 894 j 

WASH'.Oj ^ 7 

3J03Z-~Z^ 


( 


BOSTON 

ROBERTS BROTHERS 
1894 


A 




Copyright , 2£% 

By Roberts Brothers. 


2Entoersitg Press : 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 


THE 


LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


CHAPTER I. 

IT and y° un o 

]Lf JL JJ Steenie were where 
they might have 
been found on al- 
most every day at 
the same hour, — 
down on the beach, 
where the great 
canon cut through 
the mesa to the 
sea. 

A group of 
rocks, roughly 
piled, and a 
few evergreen shrubs clustering about them, 
made a pleasant break in a long, monotonous 
stretch of coast, and the coolness of the spot 
was always refreshing after their canter in 
the sunshine. Their horses had been unsaddled 
l 



SUTRO AND STEENIE. 


2 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


and set free to browse upon the herbage up the 
canon ; and these moved here and there, lazily, 
as if — like the old caballero himself — they felt 
the languor of that midday hour. 

“Sutro, what makes the water so bluey-green ? ” 
asked the little girl, who had been sitting silent 
for full one minute and gazing dreamily at the 
shining waves. 

“ Caramba ! How can I tell ? ” 

“ But you should know, should n’t you ? 
Does n’t everybody keep learning things all the 
time ? If I were a’ most a hundred, like you, 
I should know everything, I think. In verity, 
I should be able to answer a simple question such 
as that. And so I tell you.” 

“ Si ? Thou wouldst find thou knew nothing at 
all, maybe ; and thou wouldst not trouble if it were 
so. Because, if the good Dios wished to make us 
wise He would put wisdom into our heads with- 
out labor to us, would n’t he ? Why not ? ” 

“ Fie, my Sutro ! Do I learn reading that way ? 
But no. I should wait a long time first, my 
father says. Well, then, if you do not know 
what makes the water green, I s’pose, at least, 
you can tell what lies beyond the water?” 

“ Ah, that I can ! Beyond the water lies the 
sky. Thou canst see that for thyself,” answered 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


3 


the old man, with a chuckle of delight, and point- 
ing to the horizon, where, in truth, the sky and 
ocean seemed to blend. 

“ No, that is a mistake, begging your pardon, 
dear Sutro, though it looks so. For my father 
says that it is only seeming ; and that if I were 
to sail ’way, ’way over ever so far, it would be 
just as it is here, — the water so low down and 
the sky so high up above my reach. But, dearie 
me, I s’pose you will never tell me anything, 
Sutro ! I must find out all things for myself. 
I wish my father was n’t so busy. I wish my 
mother had n’t died when I was a baby. I 
wish I knew what makes the road-runners such 
silly birds. Why should they keep always in 
front of one in a chase after them ? Why don’t 
they fly up out of the way ? But, of course, you 
can’t tell. And I wish — I wish — What makes 
people grow wrinkley when they get old ? You 
can’t help being wrinkley, I know that, dear 
Sutro, but what makes it ? ” 

“ En verdad ! It may be answering thy idle 
questions, Little Un ; yet there is one thing I 
would have thee know, and remember it. My 
soul ! if thou dost not, I will be — ” 

“ Not angry, please, Sutro ! ” cried Steenie, in 
sudden alarm. 


4 THE LITTLE „LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Maybe no. Not angry, truly. But wilt thou 
remember ? I cannot be a hundred till the 
Natividad (Christmas) comes round five-and-ten 
times more. When I am a hundred }'ears, thou 
wilt be a woman. This I know, because I asked 
Father Antonio when I was last at his house. 
My father was a hundred and ten when he died ; 
and his father even more than that. The Vives’ 
family lives long in this world, and — Guay ! 
wouldst thou lie down without thy blanket ?” 

For Steenie had thrown herself full length on 
the mass of sea-pink vines, and would have been 
asleep in another moment ; but kind old Sutro 
spread his gay Navajo blanket further up, under 
the shelter of . the rocks, and, after the child had 
curled herself upon it, arranged with utmost care 
the branches of the chaparral till she was wholly 
screened from sunlight. Next, he whistled for 
the horses, who came obediently back to the 
mouth of the canon ; and then he went speedily 
to sleep, as Steenie had done. But for himself 
he made no screen, save his arm across his eyes, 
nor any bed softer than the warm sand. 

During the next half hour these two odd com- 
rades slumbered so peacefully that the teal in 
the pool beyond the rocks, and the sand-pipers in 
the rushes, went on about their business as fear- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 5 

lessly as if no human intruders were near ; but 
when the half-hour was up, the girl awoke as 
suddenly as she had slept. Sitting on her blan- 
ket, she pushed her brown curls from her blue 
eyes, and looked mischievously around at old 
Sutro, whom she began to pelt with the crimson- 
rayed pinks, aiming so deftly that one gold- 
hearted blossom landed plump in the open mouth 
of the sleeper. “ Hola ! kola ! that was well 
sent!” shouted she. 

Sputtering the flower from his lips, the Span- 
iard retorted, “ In verity, I — ” 

But if he meant to scold his darling he was 
not allowed ; for she leaned over him, patted his 
brown cheeks, and kissed him squarely on the 
forehead, in the very thickest tangle of the wrin- 
kles she so disliked. “ There, there, that will 
do, Senor Sutro Vives ! If I was rude, you 
will forgive me ; and if I hurt you, the wound 
will heal.” 

“ Thou hast healed it already, Little Un, and 
hast gladdened the heart of thy slave ! ” answered 
the other, with the extravagance of expression to 
which his tongue was prone. 

“ Pooh, my Sutro, you my slave, — the proud- 
est of proud on all Santa Felisa ranch ! My 
father says that the blood of three races runs 


6 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


in your veins, and that you have kept the best 
part of each. What does he mean by that ? I 
heard him talking thus, once, with some stran- 
gers, who came to see the place. It was when 
you rode away on Mazan', there; and one of the 
gentlemen said you were a very picture-y, or 
something, kind of a man, and — ” 

“ Ten thousand pardons, Little Un, but it is 
false ! ” 

“ Why, Sutro, what do you mean? Isn’t it 
fine to be picture-y ? I ’m sure the stranger 
thought so, for he noticed everything about you, 
— your buckskin leggings, your sombrero, your 
big saddle, your lariat, and all. He said you 
were a most int’resting kind of a ‘ type,’ and an 
‘ old Californian,’ and so on. I didn’t like the 
‘ old ’ part of the talk, though, ’cause if you 
have to be called old, I ’d rather do it myself, 
would n’t I ? ” 

Sutro vouchsafed no reply. His brow had 
grown moody, and his movements betokened 
anger; for he picked up the blanket* and folded 
it with unusual precision, and, if it were possible, 
threw his shoulders back more squarely than 
ever. At that moment, from the snap of his 
black eyes and the rigidity of his upright figure, 
he might have been eighteen instead of eighty- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 7 

five, which was the number of years Father 
Antonio’s reckoning accorded him. 

Steenie became silent, for the one thing she 
feared was anger; but when the caballero whis- 
tled for Mazan', she puckered her own red lips 
into a summons for Tito, who answered by a lov- 
ing neigh and an immediate approach. 

Not so the brown mare, Mazan', to whose sen- 
sitive ears Sutro’s whistle had conveyed the in- 
formation that her master was cross ; and when 
that was the case, it were well that all tender- 
hearted creatures kept out of his way. So, in- 
stead of trotting forward to be mounted, pretty 
Mazan' trotted off up the beach, and at a distance 
of a few rods broke into a wild gallop toward 
home. 

Then Steenie laughed ; she could n’t help it, 
though she trembled instantly, fearing she had 
made matters worse. 

But no. There was something so merry and 
infectious about that laugh that doting old Sutro 
was not the one to withstand its influence ; his 
frown relaxed to a smile. “ Well, well, En 
verdad ! Mazan knows something after all ! For 
she would be a foolish thing to come back for a 
beating she did not deserve, would she not, mi 
nina [my little one] ? ” 


8 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


“ So I should think, indeed ! But what fun ! 
You shall mount with me, and we will chase her. 
She ’ll not stop to think that Tito can run her 
two to one, will she ? ” 

“ No, no ! ” assented the caballero, vaulting up 
behind his young favorite, and making ready for 
use the lariat which had been wound around his 
waist while he rested ; also, for once, accepting 
without challenge Steenie’s declaration that Tito 
was the fleeter animal. 

Such a race as that was ! Save themselves 
and the fleeing mare, not a moving thing was in 
sight ; for, leaving the mesa bluff and the canon, 
they left also the teal and the sand-pipers ^nd 
the few creeping creatures which lived in the 
chaparral. To the west glittered the rich-hued 
Pacific Ocean ; before them and behind them lay 
miles and miles of yellow beach, while far east- 
ward towered the mountains which formed the 
boundary of the great Santa Felisa rancho. 

Lonely ? Why, yes, it may have been ; but so 
free, so roomy, and so sunny, that these two who 
darted athwart the picture never thought of lone- 
liness. Besides, why should they ? Santa Felisa 
was home to them ; and during the few short 
years that Steenie Cal thorp had lived she had 
viewed just such wide stretches of this lovely 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


9 


world, and no other ; for a city, or even town, 
she had never seen. 

As they rode they talked, — the girl asking 
and her attendant parrying questions without 
number, till he cried out, impatiently, “ If thou 
wilt chatter always, Little Un, how can Tito win 
the race ? Be quiet now, for just two minutes, 
and my lady Mazan' shall feel the rope about her 
throat, if Sutro’s hand has not lost its cunning, 
with all this tiresome talk of ‘ old,’ ‘ old ’ ! ” 

“ Ce, ce , ce ! ” echoed Steenie, softly, in her 
eagerness using the familiar Spanish injunction 
to silence, and bending low to whisper a few 
encouraging words in Tito’s ear. Like an arrow 
he shot forward, and in a brief space had gained 
so close to Mazan' that Sutro made ready to 
throw. 

“ Whiz-z ! Swish ! ” The rope had cut the air 
in shining circles above the runaway’s straining 
head, and descended with unerring exactness to 
her steaming neck ; who, at the first touch of the 
cord, understood its meaning, and stood stock- 
still, — a throbbing, beautiful, but wholly con- 
quered thingo 

u Caramba! Sen’rita Mazan'! Wouldst serve 
thy master so ? Take that — ” 

But the uplifted hand was stayed, as suddenly 


10 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

as the mare’s flight had been, by Steenie’s clutch 
of Sutro’s wrist, and her rebuke : “ What ! would 
you strike her, really, — Mazan', who never knew 
stroke or blow ! Or has this been your habit, and 
I s’posing you so gentle ! For shame to you, 
Sutro Yives ! and shame ten thousand times ! 
What is she but — ” 

“ A vixen ! so I tell thee, who must be broken 
of her evil tricks. Caramba ! Thus I will have 
it. ‘ Women and mares and a spaniel dog — 

“ Sutro ! Leave your dirty Spanish jabbering, 
and listen to me. If you strike her you shall not 
ride on the beach — for — one — whole — week ! 
And ‘ so I tell thee ’ ! I will take — let me see — 
maybe Nicoloso Barbazon, instead.” 

“ Si ? but thou wilt not, Little Un ! What does 
the stupid Nicoloso know of what a senorita’s 
body-servant should be ? Answer me that. Ca- 
ramba ! ” 

“ Ah, ha, my Sutro ! Somebody is silly still ; 
but it is n’t Mazan', nor Tito, nor me ! And you 
make me think you are not well : you are so 
very, very cross. Never mind, poor thing ! Get 
upon your pretty beast, who stands so quiet now, 
and let us go on. I am as hungry as hungry ; 
are n’t you ? ” - 

“ But — Nicoloso ? ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 11 

“ Pooh ! for Nicoloso ! He need n’t come if you 
are good, need he ? Sutro, what makes one so 
uncomf table to be hungry ? If it were n’t for that 
queerness inside of me I could stay out all day, 
and maybe all night.” 

“ Ten thousand pardons, Sen’rita, but thou 
couldst not. What would thy father do if dinner 
came but not his little daughter ? ” 

“ Sure — what could he ? He could n’t live 
without me, could he ? And there ’s the house. 
Another race, ’tween Tito and Mazan' this time, 
not Tito catching her. To the house. I ’ll beat 
you, my Sutro ! ” 

They struck into it briskly ; but, as they neared 
the goal, both riders slackened pace at sight of a 
strange carriage standing before the ranch-house 
door, with several of the household servants 
grouped excitedly about it. 

“ More strangers ! ” cried Steen ie, regretfully. 
“ It is nothing but comp’ny all the time, nowa- 
days ; and I get no more nice times with papa, 
because he must always attend to them. I wish 
they would n’t come ; don’t you, Sutro ? ” 

But she received no answer ; for the old caballero 
had muttered two words, “ The master ! ” then had 
dashed around the building toward the kitchen court. 

“ The master ? Who can he be ? Is n’t my 


12 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HOUSE. 

father the master ? Except, of course, that great 
rich lord who owns Santa Felisa, and never comes 
near it at all, — not once in all my life, my father 
says; and I ’m sure I hope he hasn’t now, for I 
should be dreadfully afraid of a lord who wore a 
gold cornet on his head, as Suzan' says ‘ every 
lord does who is any ’count at all.’ ” 

But he had indeed come ; and the little girl, 
who had trotted slowly up to the verandah, was 
lifted from her saddle, and duly presented by her 
father, the manager, to a stout, red-faced old 
gentleman as, “ My Lord, my daughter.” 

“So? Hm-m. Let me see. Wife died. Only 
one ? So, so. Nice child. Run along, Sissy. 
Hm-m. I’d like dinner now. Great country for 
appetite — California. Afterward, business.” 

Mr. Calthorp bowed gravely and respectfully; 
and, loosing Steenie’s hand, bade her make herself 
ready for the table as soon as possible. She held 
up her face for a kiss, then sped away, thinking 
she had never seen her father look so serious, and 
wondering why. “ Was he afraid of a lord, too ? 
And was the cor’net under the man’s hat ? ” 

Customs were simple at Santa Felisa ; for, till 
now, the household had been practically that of 
the manager alone, and, in default of an older 
person, Daniel Calthorp had liked to have his little 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


13 


daughter preside at table. So it seemed strange 
to none but Lord Plunkett himself when, a little 
later than usual, she entered the dining-room and 
took her usual place. Feeling she must honor 
such a wonderful occasion, she had taken uncom- 
mon pains with her toilet ; and, fortunately, the 
guest was too indifferent to such matters to be 
shocked by the rather striking combination of a 
red sash, a blue throat-knot against the white 
frock, and a mass of reddish-brown curls bound 
into a stiff little knot by a band of green velvet. 

Sutro followed her. As the oldest resident of 
the rancho, he felt that he fully understood the 
requirements of the hour ; and he had also hastily 
arrayed himself in his gayest apparel, to take his 
place solemnly behind his little “ senorita’s ” 
chair. There he stood, perfectly motionless, ap- 
parently not noticing anybody, — even Steenie 
herself, — and reminding the amused Lord Plun- 
kett of nothing in the world save one of the wooden 
figures outside a tobacconist’s shop. 

A Chinese waiter, instructed and assisted by the 
valet, Dorsey, served the unexpected guest, and 
the housemaid attended to the others. But no- 
body ate very much except the stranger ; for Mr. 
Cal thorp was too busy answering his lordship’s 
questions, and Steenie too curiously regarding his 
lordship’s appearance. 


14 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Suddenly that gentleman looked up. “ Well, 
Sissy ! What d’ ye think ? Seem to be staring 
sharp. Children read folks. Hope you ’ll like 
me. Fond of children. If they don’t talk. You 
don’t talk. Look as if you wished to. Out with 
it ! Don’t be afraid.” 

“ Oh, no ! I’m not afraid, now. Ought I to be? 
But, will you please tell me where you keep it ? 
And why don’t you wear it ? ” 

“Eh? How? Keep it? Wear it ? What?” 

“ Your cor’net. Suzan' says you can’t be a real 
lord, ’n’ess you have one.” 

“ Steenie ! ” reproved Mr. Calthorp, smiling in 
spite of himself. 

“Good. Good. Let her alone. Hm-m. Coronet. 
Suzan' ought to know. Well. Didn’t bring it.” 

“ Oh ! ” In a tone of deep regret. 

“ No. Sorry now. If I ’d imagined disappoint- 
ment — might. But — inconvenient. Don’t wear 
it often.” 

“ Oh,” said Steenie again, surprised by the 
twinkle in the nobleman’s eyes. “ I did n’t know. 
I s’posed you had to. But I should think it would 
be uncomf’ table ; ’cause gold is so heavy, and your 
head so smooth and shiny. I s’pose it would slip 
off.” 

His lordship’s manners certainly were peculiar. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


15 


He nearly choked himself trying to suppress a 
laugh and to eat at the same time ; but finally 
yielded to a real guffaw, as noisily as any cow-boy 
on the hacienda . 

“ Steenie ! ” said the manager once more, this 
time with real severity, and comprehending for 
the first time how sadly neglected the child had 
been. 

But, fortunately, Lord Plunkett was very good- 
natured, and wisely divined that his small new 
acquaintance was rude from ignorance, not 
intention. Dinner over, he made friends with 
her directly, and explained away the mistaken 
notions with which the housemaid had filled her 
head ; while Steenie listened eagerly, delighted to 
find at last somebody who had both leisure and 
patience to answer “ foolish questions.” 

Lord Plunkett did this without waste of words ; 
and at the same time went poking about the 
place, enjoying the novelty of all he saw, and 
gaining from Steenie’s talk a pretty fair idea of 
the daily life at San’ Felisa. “ Hm-m. So I see. 
Brought yourself up, my dear. No mother. Fa- 
ther busy. Servants ignorant. No church. No 
school. Well, well. Good thing for you, bad for 
me. Pity about his eyes. Bad, bad. Hope he 
won’t be blind. Permanently.” 


16 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ I hope so, too ; though I don’t know who you 
mean,’’ said the little girl, sweetly. 

“ Good child. But — don’t know ? Why — 
father. Your father, of course. Hope he ’s the 
only one losing eyesight and going away. Hate 
new men. Old ones invaluable. Hope he ’ll get 
better. Come back. Bad country for eyes. Too 
much sunshine. Not enough green.” 

Steenie stopped short on the path. “ What 
was that, sir, please ? My — father — blind ? 
My father — going away ? Oh, dear Lordship, 
is that what you said ? ” 

“ Yes. Yes. Certainly. What? Not know it? 
Why else should I come ? Hm-m. Queer. Starts 
in few days. Operation — maybe cure — ” 

But he did not finish his sentence ; for the child 
had suddenly darted away from him, and to the 
side of the “ tobacconist’s sign,” who was crossing 
the court at that moment. “ Sutro ! 0 my Sutro ! 
My father is blind — and — going — away ! ” 

“ It is false ! ” cried the old Spaniard, with his 
ready and angry defiance of all things unpleasant. 

“ No, no — it is true ! ’Cause the cor’net man 
said so ! ” And clinging to her ancient playfellow, 
Steenie buried her face in his blanket, and sobbed 
bitterly. 


CHAPTER II. 



HERE, she’s 
found it out! 
And it ’s a deal 
worse than if her 
papa had told 
her first off ! ” said Suzan', 
at the kitchen door. “ 1 
never saw Miss Steenie cry 
about anything before, and 
I wish now that I ’d a 
broke it to her myself.” 

“ My, my ! the poor 
lamb ! ” echoed Ellen, the 
cook, joining the house- 
maid. No, she haint 
never been one fer cryin’, 
— not even fer bumps er scratches. Sunshiny ’s 
what she’s been, an’ so I say. Does seem ’s if I 
could n’t stay to cook fer no new manager’s folks 
after that sweet angel. Good mind ter give notice 
myself.” 

“ Oh, wait ! Maybe it won’t be so bad as we 
think. Master don’t look blind.” 


18 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ How can ye tell how he looks, ’hind them 
great goggles o’ his’n ? I guess it ’s bad as it 
can be, er he would n’t give in to it. He ’s clear 
grit, an’ so I say. That ’s where Miss Steenie 
gets her’n. See ! she ’s spied her father cornin’ 
back from the valley ! He rid away to call the 
boys together, ’cause his lordship wants to see 
’em, I suppose. Well, he’s right peart-lookin’ 
yet ; but man ’s born to troubles, an’ he ’ll hev 
to take his share.” 

The women watched Steenie run with out- 
stretched arms to meet Mr. Calthorp ; saw him 
check his horse suddenly, when he had almost 
ridden her down, and bend low to lift her to his 
saddle. They saw the child’s arms clasp close 
about his neck, and fancied they could hear her 
wild outburst of grief. Then, with moistened 
eyes, but in true delicacy, they turned away from 
witnessing a child’s first sorrow. 

“ Papa, is it true V ” 

“ My darling, why do you cry ? What true ? ” 
The well-trained horse stood still while the rider 
folded his little daughter close to his own heavy 
heart. 

“ About your eyes. Are you — blind ? ” 

Mr. Calthorp shivered. Even to himself he 
could not yet acknowledge what seemed so plain 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 19 

to almost everybody else. “ No, sweetheart, I 
am not blind — yet ; but for a long, long time 
there has been something wrong with my eyes, 
and I dare put off no further the treatment 
which they require. So I wrote to Lord Plun- 
kett and asked him to relieve me of my duties 
here, and I meant to tell you as soon as it seemed 
necessary. He came before I had expected that 
he could. He wishes to make a thorough exami- 
nation of all Santa Felisa affairs, and to be fully 
informed concerning what has and has not been 
accomplished. I was glad, yet sorry, to see him ; 
for our going away means leaving what has been 
my home for many years, and the only one you 
have ever known.” He continued talking for 
some time, till he had given a very quiet and 
clear explanation, which soothed the excited 
child; besides, the words “ not blind — yet” 
were quite enough to fill her buoyant heart 
with a hope that seemed certainty. 

“ Ob, how glad I am ! And I s’ pose the lord- 
ship did n’t understand. I ’m quite : — quite sure 
he did n’t mean to tell a wrong story, and I ’m 
sorry I snatched my hand away from him. I’ll 
go and ’xplain it now, if you will put me down, 
Papa, dear ! ” 

Smiling, Mr. Calthorp complied ; and chirrup- 


20 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

ing to his horse, continued his course stableward, 
while Steenie sought the “ cor’net man” to make 
her naive apology. 

“ I guess I did n’t behave very p’lite, Mr. Plun- 
kett, but I hope you won’t be angry; I don’t 
like folks to be angry ; but you see I did n’t 
think of anything ’cept my father, — not then. 
And I want to ’xplain it, — he is n’t blind — 
yet ; and he ’s going to see a treatment ; so he ’ll 
prob’ly get them fixed over all right. And if 
there’s anything I can do to int’rest you I will; 
for I like you very much.” 

“ Eh ? — So ? — Thank you. I like you, too. 
Bright — bonny — worth a fortune. Hm-m ! 
Better than coronets. Stick to it. Sit down ? 
Orange-tree, yonder. Now, then, talk.” 

Laughing at his mirthful manner and odd sen- 
tences, Steenie led her new friend to the seat he 
designated ; and folding her hands in her lap, 
said politely : “ I ’ll talk what more I know. 

’T is n’t much, I guess ; only ’bout horses ; I 
have n’t told you ’bout them yet, have I ? ” 

“ No. Horses ? What ? Whose ? Go on.” 

“ Oh, ours ! — No, yours, I s’ pose they are. 
Maybe they’re the ‘boys.’ We’ve trained them 
beautifully. Tomaso and Connecticut Jim both 
say it can’t be beat. It ’s great fun ! ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


21 


“ Don’t understand.” 

“ No, I s’pose not. But — this way, like a 
‘ circus/ my father says. They ’s thirty-three, all 
counted ; and every man of us has tried to teach 
our horse something better ’n each other; and 
they ’re just too cunning for anything ! Bob ’s 
kept the ‘ cup ’ for ever so long now ; but I ’m 
going to win it away from him some time, — see 
if I don’t ! Oh, I forgot ! ” The eager little 
face suddenly drooped at memory of that terrible 
“ going away,” which would be even earlier than 
the anticipated “ some time.” 

“ Why, why ! — delightful ! Never heard any- 
thing like it ! See it, can I, — eh ? ” demanded 
his lordship, whose love for horses was very 
great. 

“I hope — I s’pose so. I don’t know. Ken- 
tucky Bob’s the head of us. We all have to 
mind him ; and sometimes he don’t be very 
pleasant. But he ’s very nice and honest, my 
father says ; and I love him dearly. Then we 
can’t have a ‘ circus ’ till he gets over it again. 
My father says, too, it ’s ’cause he has a c crank ’ 
in him somewhere. I s’pose that ’s what hurts 
him and makes him unpleasant. Don’t you ? ” 

“ No doubt. Bad complaint ; quite general ; 
touch myself. No, don’t go ! All right to-day. 


22 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


But — where ’s Kentucky Bob ? Walk him out ! 
Won’t refuse, — not me.” 

“No, I don’t s’ pose he would, on ’count of 
your being a lordship. If you don’t mind stay- 
ing alone, I ’ll run and ask him. I saw him cross 
the arroyo just a minute ago.” 

“Trot; but come back.” 

Steenie departed ; and while she was gone 
Mr. Calthorp walked gropingly toward the bench 
where his employer sat. He could still see suf- 
ficiently to guide himself about, and his knowl- 
edge of places and voices aided him. His eyes 
were screened by close-fitting goggles of dark 
glass ; but he had worn these so long that 
Steenie had almost forgotten how he had ever 
looked without them. Few men in his condition 
would have held to his post as long as he had 
done, nor was this course wise in him ; but he 
was not a rich man, and he had been anxious to 
earn and save what he could for his little daugh- 
ter’s sake. 

“ Hm-m ! Get around — first-rate. Little 
girl ’s smart ; like her.” 

“ Thank you. She is, indeed, a brave, sunny 
child. In some ways her leaving Santa Felisa 
will be better for her. She should go to school 
and mingle with women. Here she has no com- 


TFTE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 23 

pany but myself and the 1 boys/ Old Sutro has 
devoted himself to her since her infancy, and 
loves her jealously. Indeed, they all love her ; 
but that is not strange, for she loves them. Has 
she gone upon an errand for you ? ” 

“ Yes ; Kentucky Bob. Circus ; like to see it. 
Says maybe he won’t ; ‘ crank/ ” 

“Well — he is — very peculiar. However, he 
has a wonderful gift with horses ; it seems almost 
like magic ; and he has imparted much of his 
skill to Steen ie. She is perfectly fearless. But 
I won’t anticipate. Are they coming ? ” 

“ Yes. Hm-m ! how old — she ? ” 

“ Ten years. I ’ll leave her to negotiate mat- 
ters.” 

Steenie approached the orange-tree, leading by 
one hand a great fellow, whose face at that mo- 
ment wore its most forbidding expression, and 
who seemed inclined to break away from his 
small guide ; yet determined, in his own words, 
“ to bluff her out.” Catch him, a free-born Amer- 
ican, truckling to anybody, even if that body were 
a genuine “ lord,” and, what was more, his own 
employer ! He guessed he was n’t a going to get 
up no shows unless he wanted to ! And he evi- 
dently did not so incline. 

However, when he came quite near, and saw 


24 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

the small, dumpy, red-faced old gentleman sitting 
beside Mr. Calthorp, his astonishment conquered 
every other sentiment. He a lord ! Whe-ew ! he 
might be anybody ! and of no great account 
either. Plain suit of clothes, no rings, no 
watch-chain, no scarf-pin even ; bald-headed, 
good-natured, sensible. As his observations 
reached this happy climax, Bob ceased tugging 
at his feminine guiding-string, and marched 
frankly forward. Her father could not see the 
action ; but Steenie was amazed when the re- 
fractory ranchman doffed his hat and made a 
respectful, if somewhat awkward, bow. She 
had never witnessed such a concession before 
on his part. 

“ Good evenin,’ sir ; hope I see you well.” 

“ Quite, thank you. Hear you ’re wonderful. 
Horses. Like to see, if suits.” 

“ Well, sir, I ’d like to ’blige; but, you see, it’s 
against the rules. Once a week, an’ no oftener, 
is what we agreed. No use o’ rules if you 
don’t stick to ’em. Exercise every Sunday ; no 
other times in public. If I ’lowed the ‘ boys ’ to 
go it rash, say on odd days, they ’d get the upper 
hand in no time ; then where ’d I be ? ” 

From the tone of his voice, Mr. Calthorp judged 
that Bob “ wanted coaxing ; ” but this was not his 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 25 

affair. From the moment of Lord Plunkett’s 
arrival he had practically resigned all authority, 
so he did not interfere. 

Now, my lord was, as has been said, very good- 
natured ; but, like many other good-natured 
and unassuming people, opposition, or imposition, 
made him a little testy. Moreover, he was accus- 
tomed to command, not to sue ; and he consid- 
ered that he had already conceded as much as was 
necessary to this rough specimen of American 
manhood. His choler and color rose together ; 
and he opened his lips with a very decided and 
undignified snort : “ Woo-oo ! Eh ? Hey ? ” 

But, fortunately for all parties, Steenie’s bright 
eyes had telegraphed alarm to her loving heart ; 
and with a quick little “ ’Xcuse me! ” she pulled 
Bob’s surly face to the level of her lips, and whis- 
pered something in his ear. 

Then, as if there had been a spring in his back, 
his head rebounded to the upright, his cheek 
actually paled beneath its tan, and he ejaculated 
fiercely, “ Great — Huckleberries ! ” 

It was the nearest approach to an oath which 
this strange man ever allowed himself ; for, 
though he thought nothing of breaking the Sab- 
bath by racing or gaming, he neither gave way 
to profanity nor indulged himself with a drop of 


26 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


spirituous liquor. He used to describe himself as 
“ half marm, half pop ; ” and to attribute his 
sobriety and general uprightness to the “ marm ” 
side, all to the contrary, “pop.” Years before, 
when, a hot-tempered lad, he had run away from 
“pop’s” wrath, he had solemnly promised his 
weeping “ marm ” that he would “ never drink 
nor swear ; ” and, to the honor of Kentucky Bob, 
be it said that he had loyally kept his word. 

“ Huckleberries ! Little Un, you don’t mean 
it ! You would n’t, would you ? ” 

“I — I ’ve got to, dear old Bob ! But — there 
— there — there — I won’t cry ! I will not. And 
you ’ll do it, won’t you ? ” 

“ Well — I reckon ! But — little missy — the 
boys won’t believe it. An’ — Say, Boss, is it 
true ? Are you a goin’ to light out ? ” 

“ Yes, Bob,” answered Mr. Calthorp, sadly ; 
“but from necessity, not choice.” 

“ An’ the Little Un — why must she go ? Ain’t 
nothin’ the matter of her eyes, is they ? ” 

“ No, no ; thank God ! ” 

“Well, then ; leave her here. We ’ll take care 
of her. Square. Why — what — in huckleber- 
ries — ’ll San’ Felis’ be ’ithout our little missy? 
Ain’t she lived here ever sence she was borned ? 
Ain’t we be’n good to her ? We ’re rough, w r e be. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 27 

We ain’t no lords, ner nothin’ but jest cow-boys 
er sech. But we ’re men. An’ Americans. An’ I 
’low there ain’t one of us but would fight till 
he died fer the Little Un, afore harm should 
tetch her. No ! It must n’t be. An’ that ’s 
square.” 

Even Mr. Calthorp, who had had abundant 
proof, heretofore, of the “ boys’ ” devotion to 
Steenie, was surprised at the depth of feeling be- 
trayed by Bob’s words ; for he could not fully 
know all that the child had been to these men, 
separated, as most of them were, from home and 
its associations. Since the hour when they had 
been permitted to carry or amuse her, a tiny baby 
in long clothes, they had adopted her in their 
hearts, each in his own way finding in the frank, 
merry, friendly little creature an embodiment of 
his own better nature. They had even, with the 
superstition of their class, accepted her as their 
66 mascot,” sincerely believing that every enter- 
prise to which she lent her presence or approval 
was sure to prosper. 

To what other human being would Kentucky 
Bob have imparted the secret of his wonderful 
power over the equine race? Indeed, to none 
other; and to her only because he loved her 
so, and was so proud of her cleverness. And 


28 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


now his big, honest heart ached with a new 
and bitter pain, as he faced the danger of her 
loss. 

“ Why, Robert ! Why ! Eh, what ? Tut, tut. 
Good child. Understand. But — father. First 
claim. See ? ” 

Angry Bob cast one scorching, contemptuous 
glance upon the nervous little lord ; and if looks 
could annihilate, the British peerage would then 
and there have been short one member. Stoop- 
ing, he swung Steenie to his shoulder, and strode 
away toward the great group of out-buildings 
which made the home-piece of Santa Felisa rancho 
seem like a village in itself. In the thickest crowd 
of the employees who had been summoned to meet 
their newly-arrived employer he came to a sudden 
halt. 

“ Hello, Bob ! What ’s up ? ” 

“ I — The — I wish to sizzle ! Sho, I can’t talk. 
Tell ’em, Little Un.” 

“ Yes, Bob,” answered Steenie, gently, patting 
the great head around which she clung for sup- 
port. “ But s’pose you put me down. I ’m heavy. 
I ’m such a big girl, now.” 

“ No, you ain’t. Hold you forever, if you ’ll 
stay.” 

“ Stay ? stay where ? ” asked somebody. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 29 

“ Tell ’em,” again commanded the Kentuckian ; 
and waving her hand, she hushed them by this 
gesture to hear her words. 

Yet, somehow, the words would n’t come. For 
the second time that day the self-control of the 
child failed to respond to her needs. Her eyes 
roamed from face to face of those gathered about 
her, and there was not one on which she did not 
read an answering love for the great love she bore 
to it. Rough faces, most of them. Sun black- 
ened, — sin blackened too, perhaps ; but gentle, 
every one, toward her. Odd comrades for a little 
girl, and she a descendant of “ one of the first 
families in Old Knollsboro ; ” still the only com- 
rades she had ever known, and therefore she 
craved no other. 

Twice she tried to speak, and felt a queer lump 
in her throat that choked her ; and at last she 
dropped her face upon Bob’s rough mane, her 
sunny curls mingling with it to hide the tears 
which hurt her pride to show. 

An ominous growl ran round the assembly, and 
the sound was the tonic she needed. “ Hmm ! 
who ’s a makin’ ther Little Un cry ? ” 

“ Nobody, boys ! dear, dear boys ! Not anybody 
at all ! I ’m not crying now ; see ? ” Proudly 
her head was tossed back, and a determined smile 


30 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

came to the still quivering lips, even while 
the tears glistened on the long lashes. u You 
see, it ’s this way. I did n’t know it till this 
very day that ever was, or I ’d have told you. 
’Cause I ’ve always been square, have n’t I ? ” 

“ You bet ! Square ’s a brick ! ” 

“ But all the time my father ’s been getting 
blinder an’ blinder, an’ I did n’t even s’pect any- 
thing ’bout it. I thought he wore goggley things 
’cause he liked ’em ; but he did n’t : it was ’cause 
he had to. And now, if he don’t go away quick, 
he can’t get his poor eyes fixed up at all. So he 
is. He ’s going ’way, ’way off, — three thousand 
miles, my father says, to a big city called New 
York, where a lot of doctors live who don’t do 
anything but mend eyes. My grandmother lives 
in a little town close to New York, and we ’re 
going to her house to stay ; and — and — that ’s 
all. I have to do it, you see. I’m sorry, ’cause 
I love you all ; but he ’s my father, and I have 
to love him the biggest, the best. And I hope 
you don’t mind.” 

“ No, no, no ! Three cheers for the ‘ boss ’ ! ” 
Given with a will ; and by the time the noise 
had subsided, Steenie’s smile had become as bright 
as ever, and that without any effort of her will. 

“ Good enough ! Thank you, dears ! And now 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 31 

we 'll have an extra circus, won’t we ? I’d like to 
’blige Mr. Plunkett ; and besides, you know, I — 
I sha’ n’t have you, nor the horses, nor any more 
fun — in that old New York i ” 

“ Hold on, Little Un ! Where’s your grit?” 
asked Kentucky Bob, passing Steenie from his 
shoulder to a convenient wagon-box. 

His sudden change of tone astonished her. 

“ Hain’t I allays fetched ye up to do the square 
thing ? If your dooty calls you to N’ York, — to 
N’ York you ’ll have to go ; but, fer the honor o’ 
San’ Felis’, an’ the credit o’ your boys, do it colors 
flyin’ — head up — shoulders back — right face 
— march ! ” 

“ I will, Bob ! I will ! I will ! ” cried Steenie, 
impulsively. “ You sha ’n’t ever have to be ashamed 
of your Little Un, and so I tell you ! ” 

In the midst of the rousing cheers which fol- 
lowed, Lord Plunkett appeared. He could restrain 
his curiosity no longer. 


CHAPTER III. 



HERE was some 
suspicion among 
the other dwellers 
at Santa Felisa 
that Kentucky Bob 
had once been em- 
ployed about a real 
circus, else how had 
he acquired that intimate 
knowledge of the “ rules and 
regulations of the ring” 
which he so constantly quoted 
for their benefit or reproval ? 

’ of theirs, the boxes, hurdles, 
and other such things which the riders had been 
accustomed to use were soon gathered, and the 
labor of arranging these gave a wholly pleasant 
diversion to their feelings. A card of invitation, 
beautifully engrossed by a vaquero who had passed 
from the halls of Harvard to the great solitudes 
of the Sierras, was issued to Lord Plunkett, and 


Into this “ ring ’ 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 33 

a seat of honor erected for him on the southern 
side of the campus, while a spreading canvas wall 
on the north was to serve as a screen for the pre- 
paratory operations of the various actors. 

Needless to say, maybe, that having once been 
won over to the project of an “ extra show,” an 
enthusiastic determination was roused among the 
Santa Felisans to make this farewell entertain- 
ment of their beloved “ mascot ” eclipse every- 
thing which had ever gone before. 

Nor did the interest end at this ranch ; for 
mounted messengers were dispatched to invite 
the people of the neighboring estates to be pres- 
ent at the exhibition, and the invitations were 
as generally as promptly accepted. 

But, of course, all this preparation took time 
to accomplish, so the hour had been appointed 
for one o’clock of the following day ; and during 
the interval Steenie’s thoughts were so full of 
the matter, her tongue so busy discussing it, that 
she neither felt the time long nor permitted others 
to do so. 

Indeed, so affected was everybody by the pleas- 
ant excitement of “ getting ready,” that evening 
came before Lord Plunkett and his manager were 
finally seated with their books before them and 
a secretary at hand, to examine into the business 
3 


34 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HOUSE. 

which had brought them together. Even then 
his lordship would gladly have waived the mat- 
ter, had he been allowed. “ For ten years. No, 
twelve. Ship-shape. Paid well. Prompt. What 
more, eh ? I’m satisfied. Why not you ? ” 

“ But, my lord, I cannot be. Any new man- 
ager will have enough to learn, even without all 
that I can do for him. It is a great responsi- 
bility ; and, my lord, I would respectfully suggest 
that in the future you visit this part of your prop- 
erty oftener than once in a dozen years.” 

“ Hm-m ! maybe ; don’t know. Planned to 
stay a year now. Girl going away. Give it up. 
Consider. She comes back ; so ’ll I. Like her. 
Credit to you ; so ’s the ranch.” Then the noble- 
man looked up as Sutro entered, bringing the 
“ new manager’s ” card. “ Hello, Mexican ! Well, 
where ? Indigestion ? Missed you. Say you ’ve 
character ? Born here ? Eh ? What ? ” 

Sutro bowed profoundly, but a malicious grin 
overspread his wrinkled face. “ En verdcid ! Thy 
Excellency honors his humble servant. Ten thou- 
sand thanks. But the senor stranger is arrived.” 

Mr. Calthorp rose and advanced carefully in 
the direction of the door, extending his hand 
toward the new-comer, whom he immediately 
presented to Lord Plunkett; and, while these 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 35 

gentlemen were exchanging civilities, he turned 
sharply upon old Yives, whom he could hear 
rustling about near him. “ Where have you 
been so long, Sutro? We have not seen you 
since dinner. His lordship has inquired for you 
several times.” 

“ Si ? He does the least of his household too 
great respect,” answered the Spaniard, with 
haughty accent. 

“ Come, come, Sutro, don’t be foolish ! It would 
be wiser of you to conciliate both him and the 
new ‘ boss.’ They can easily turn you adrift, and 
you are an old man. From the tone of your voice, 
I judge that you are angry. That is senseless, 
and I am sorry. I wish to feel that one as fond 
of my little daughter as you are will be quite 
happy and comfortable when we are gone.” 

“ I bow myself in obligation to thee, Senor 
Calthorp,” responded the old Castilian, servilely. 
But his mood w T as neither servile nor happy ; and, 
as the retiring manager turned once more toward 
his successor, he sought the cozy corner of the 
office which Steenie called her own, and where 
she sat by her pretty shaded lamp, sorting her 
picture-books. 

“ Hold , my Little Un ! But I have put a thorn 
in his shirt, no ? Trust old Sutro ! ” 


36 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“How? What do you mean? And surely I 
can trust you to do ’most anything hateful when 
you look such a way ! What have you done now, 
Sutro Vives ? Tell me that ! ” 

“Hi, hi, hi! maybe no. Si? Dost thou wish 
to go from San’ Felisa to the land of snow and 
ice and no sunshine ? Answer thou me that ! ” 

“ You know I don't wish it ; but I must, that 
is all. But, wait, how do you happen to know 
anything at all about it ? You ran away directly 
after dinner, and now you’ve just come in ! ” 

“ Pouf ! thinkest thou an old caballero knows 
nothing but what a baby tells him ? I have 
known for — this — long — time all that has 
been planned for the little sen’rita. Si ! Lo diclio 
dicho [what I have said I have said].” 

For a moment Steenie was silent, unable to 
answer this argument. Then she cried trium- 
phantly : “ But you need not tell me that. A 
4 long time ’ may be from this very mid-day that 
ever was, but from no longer. Does anybody 
at San’ Felis’ ever tell Sutro Yives secrets ? In 
verity, no ; for Suzan' says you are a sieve that 
holds nothing. At the Natividad , poor dear 
old caballero, with a word they don’t want 
spoken ? Why, nobody. And if you ’d known 
about my father’s eyes and all, you ’d have told 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 37 

me the very first minute ! You would so, my 
Sutro, you could n’t have helped it ! ” clapping 
her hands. 

It was the senor’s turn to look crestfallen. 
What his little lady declared against him was 
quite true ; but this had never prevented his 
adopting an air of great mystery and secrecy 
whenever the slightest occasion offered. Poor 
old Sutro Yives was not the only one in this 
world bigger in his own estimation than in that 
of anybody else. 

But he rallied as swiftly as she had done. 
“ Tente ! what of that ? He will not stay at San’ 
Felisa — yes ? In verity, no ; I have taken care 
about that.” 

“ Sutro, you look, you truly do look, naughty ! 
What badness have you been doing now, senor ? 
Answer me that.” 

“ Is the truth badness ? Then have I been 
bad,” retorted the other, bridling. “ I have told 
him the truth, this not- wan ted, unmannerly, 
new director-manager. Thou belongest to us,— 
to the vaqueros and Caballeros, and everybody 
who dwells at San’ Felisa. It is in thee the 
4 good luck ’ lives ; and thou wilt never be allowed 
to go away from us, so I tell thee ! There will 
be mutiny, uprising ; what Connecticut Jim calls 


38 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

‘ strike.’ Bat go from Santa Felisa, thou? No! 
— a thousand times no ! ” 

Unperceived by them, Lord Plunkett had for- 
saken the other table and the business talk, which 
he found tiresome, for that of the pair in the cozy 
corner, which appeared to be interesting ; and he 
had thrown himself upon a lounge which the back 
of Steenie’s big chair hid from view, to play the 
part of eavesdropper ; only in this case it seemed 
not ignoble, for the two animated disputants 
spoke quite loudly enough to be heard by any- 
body in the room who had chosen to listen. He 
had, therefore, enjoyed the whole dialogue, and 
he now leaned forward to watch Steenie’s bright 
face and to catch her reply. 

“ But I answer you and Jim and everybody — 
yes ! Where my father goes I will go, and all 
this silly talk won’t stop me! Next Saturday 
morning, Sutro Vives, the noisy black engine 
will stop at San’ Felisa station, and Papa Cal- 
thorp and I will get into one of those big cars, 
and will go whizz, away, away ! — where you nor 
Bob nor Jim nor nobody can do wicked, hateful 
things to the Little Un, never again ! ” 

Wrought up by the pathos of her own picture, 
Steenie’s self-control gave way at this juncture, 
and bounding toward her father, who seemed at 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


39 


that moment to be a cruel enemy, and yet her 
only friend, she astonished him by a torrent of 
tears and embraces which effectually stopped all 
further conversation. 

“ Sutro ! ” called Mr. Calthorp, sternly. 

“ Si, senor ; how can I serve thee ? ” 

“ Here, go with Miss Steenie and find Suzan'. 
Daughter, let me see no more of this childishness. 
Such rebellion is unworthy of you and most dis- 
tressing to me. Good-night.” 

Poor Steenie ! her tears ceased instantly, and 
her grief turned to anger. At that moment she 
felt that she had not a friend in the world, and 
her proud little heart resented the apparent want 
of sympathy she met with everywhere. With a 
very decided stamp of her little boot-heels, she 
marched out of the room, — “eyes front, right 
face,” as Bob would have commanded, though 
not in a spirit to be commended. 

“ Lastima es [it is a pity], my Little Un ! ” 
cried old Sutro, hurrying after his darling, only 
to have her turn fiercely upon him, and order 
him to “ keep his pity to himself. And I want 
no Suzan' ! I want nobody, — nobody at all ! 

Ten minutes later a very wet and heated little 
face w r as buried in the white pillows, and Steenie 
Calthorp had settled herself in bed, convinced 


40 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

that she was the most ill-treated child in the 
world, and resolved to enjoy her misery to the 
utmost. Only unfortunately for her doleful 
plans, she was by nature very sunny and hope- 
ful, and she was also perfectly healthy. In about 
two winks she happened to think of the next 
day’s “ circus,” and before she knew it she was 
asleep, with a smile upon her lips. 

Suzan' entered softly and stood by the bed for 
a moment, shading her lamp with her hand and 
lovingly regarding the little maid. “ Bless her 
dear heart! she’s shed more tears this day than 
in all her little life before. But she’s happy 
now, — happier ’n anybody else at San’ Felisa. 
My, my ! what ’ll ever we do without the Little 
Un ? But master, he ’s worried about her crying ; 
though, sure, if he ’d bothered less about books 
and business, and more about his own pretty flesh 
and blood, maybe his eyes ’d a been better the 
now, poor man ! ” 

Then she went away as gently as she had 
come ; and when next Steenie awoke, the bril- 
liant California sunshine streaming in at her 
window was not brighter than that within her 
own heart. 

“ Such a day, such a day ! Will it ever come 
noon ! ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


41 


“ True. And all too soon, Miss Steenie, for that 
I ’ve to do. Because, what has his lordship done 
but give orders for a big feed for all the people 
who are coming to see you show off ? ” 

“ To see — me, Suzan' ? Why, not me, but 
all the boys. I Tn not to do a thing till the very 
last, Bob says ; and then only just ride and drive 
a little. Ma} r be they will get tired, and won’t stay 
till the end, so I won’t get a chance to do any- 
thing ; ’cause Bob says he’s ’ranged a dreadful 
long program. I think that ’s what he called it.” 

“ In verity, querida [my darling] ! I believe 
you are the only one worth seeing. Lord Plunkett 
says. I heard one of the fellows giving him some 
talk about you, and he kept rubbing his fat little 
hands, and saying things so odd. Sounds like 
water coming out of a bottle. c Wonderful!’ 
‘ Strange ! ’ ‘ Hm-m ! ’ 4 What ? ’ till I had to 

laugh. Think of — him — for a lord! Much I 
care to read stories about ’ristocratics any more ! 
He has n’t any ‘ raving locks,’ nor ‘ coal black 
eyes,’ nor nothing. Is n’t half as handsome as 
a’most any of the boys.” 

“Well, well! Never mind him! Hurry up 
with my hair, won’t you, please ? My ! how you 
do pull ! I wish my father ’d let me wear it short, 
like his ; don’t you ? ” 


42 TTIE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Caramba ! No. Your hair is the prettiest 
thing about you, except your eyes, and maybe — ” 

“ Stuff ! who cares for pretty ? If I had to 
twist my hair up in rags every night, like you do, 
dear Suzan', I ’d be mis’able. But I s’pose you 
can’t help it. You ’re grown up. It must be 
dreadful to get grown up, and as old as you are, 
poor, nice Suzan' ! ” 

“Si? Humph! And me only twent} T -five my 
last birthday. If it was Ellen, now — ” 

“ Never mind Ellen. And I love you, dear 
Suzan', if you are old ; and I ’m soriy ever’ time 
I ’m fidgety ’bout my hair. You won’t ’member 
it against me, will you, after I ’m gone ? ’Cause 
I don’t mean any badness ; it ’s only this quick 
temper and can’t-keep-stillness of mine. I just 
want to run, run, or something, all the time. 
And keeping tidy, like my father says, is a bother. 
There! you’ve done, haven’t you? Can I go? 
Kiss me, Suzan' ! ” 

Away danced Steenie, leaving her kind attend- 
ant feeling already heavy-hearted in anticipation 
of the time when there would be no restless little 
creature for her fond fingers to attire, and no little 
outbursts of impatience to correct. 

But presently, all other thoughts save those 
connected with the immediate affairs of the day 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 43 

were banished by the tasks which Suzan' found 
to do. There were chickens to roast, cakes to 
bake, biscuits by the hundred to be made, and 
pies — such rows of pies ! that the arms of cook 
Ellen and her assistants, Win Sing and Lun Hoy, 
ached with the rolling of pastry. 

But they were not dismayed. Not they ! 
Did n’t they always cook just as much when the 
sheep were sheared, or the feast after the “round- 
up” was held ? A pity if Santa Felisa couldn’t 
respond to any demand made upon her larder, — 
especially by order of her owner, a real live 
British lord ! 

So the great ovens were fired, both in the 
house-kitchen and in the old adobe cooking-sheds 
outside ; and a corps of white-aproned helpers 
attended the roasting and stewing and baking of 
all the good things which Mistress Ellen and her 
aids prepared. While under the eucalyptus-trees 
bordering the arroyo, Suzan' gayly directed the 
spreading of the long tables that would seat, if 
need be, full two hundred guests. 

“ Oh, isn’t it fun ! ” cried Steenie, darting about 
from one point to another of the gay and busy 
scene ; and always having in tow the perspiring 
Lord Plunkett, who found no breath left for even 
his short sentences, but contented himself by 


44 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


beaming graciously upon each and every one he 
met. 

“ Tug an’ a canawl-boat ! ” said Bob, regarding 
the pair somewhat jealously. “ Don’t see why 
the Little Un need stick to him so closet, even 
if he is a bloated lord ! ” 

“ Never you mind, Bob ! Let the Little Un 
alone. Ain’t she happy ? Ain’t she a purty sight ? 
Brim full o’ smiles an’ chipper as a wren ? What 
more do ye want ? ” 

“ Nothin’. But ’pears ter me she need n’t be so 
powerful glad ’bout leavin’ us. I — don’t feel much 
like laughin’. And she ’d oughter be practisin’.” 

“ Don’t worrit. It ’ll be all right, Little Un ’s 
square. She won’t ferget us, you bet ! An’ she ’ll 
do the ‘ great act ’ all the better fer bein’ light- 
hearted. Land ! I only hope them cold-blooded 
Easterners’ll make her half as glad as she’s al- 
ways be’n at San’ Felis’ ! But — ain’t it gittin’ 
nigh dinner-time ? Folks air beginnin’ ter come 
a’ready. Understan’ the spread, general, ain’t 
ter be till afterwards ? ” 

“ No. An’ the one ’t carries oil first prize is ter 
perside. Well, I hope it’ll be our ‘Mascot.’ Do 
me prouder ’n if it was myself.” 

“Me, too,” echoed his comrade, and departed 
to snatch a hasty luncheon. 


TI1E LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 45 

At the same moment, Lord Plunkett announced, 
breathlessly: “I — I can’t. Stop. Wait. Hungry. 
As — a — grizzly. Ever since — I came. Beats 
everything. Appetite. Come. Eat.” 

“ Oh, you dear, funny man ! However can 
you think about eating — now ? Why, I just 
want one o’clock to come so much I can’t wait ! ” 

“ Eh ? What ? Not afraid ? Ride — same ’s 
nobody here ? ” 

“Why — yes,” answered Steenie, slowly, as this 
new idea presented itself. “ Why should n’t I ? 
Indeed, I ought to do a great, great deal better ; 
’cause I would n’t like to dis’point dear old Bob. 
Nor you,” she added politely. 

“ Hm-m. Bob first. Then — me. Hm-m. 
You ’re no — Anglomaniac. See that. Plain.” 

“ Wh-a-t, sir ? ” asked the little girl, astonished 
by the long, strange word he had used. 

“ No matter. Nice child. Spunky — but good. 
The way I like them. See here?” He held 
up a small purse in which were displayed six 
glittering double eagles. “ Prizes. Eh ? Win 
’em ? Highest — three ; next — two ; last — 
one.” 

But Steenie was a little California girl, and 
her eyes were not dazzled by the sight of gold. 
Of its intrinsic value she had no idea ; for in the 


46 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

course of her short life she had had no occasion to 
use any money. The prizes, therefore, repre- 
sented nothing to her beyond themselves ; and 
as playthings she did not care for them. 

“ Are they ? Then I hope the boys will get 
them all. ’Specially Jim. He ’s got a mother, 
an’ she ’s got a consumption, or something. And 
he ’s going to bring her out to live in California, 
sometime. It ’s ter’ble cold where she stays now, 
my father says ; and he ’vises Jim to fetch her. 
They ’re money ; and they would help, would n’t 
they ? ” 

“Hm-m. Yes. And you — don’t want them ? ” 

“ If he can’t win them I do. I ’d rather he ’d 
get them himself, ’cause he ’s so pleased when he 
beats anybody ; but if he can’t — why, I will — 
I hope. Now I know ’bout them, he must have 
them.” 

“ Hm-m,” said Lord Plunkett again, grimly. 
“ Oddest child. Likelier. Immensely.” 

“ Steenie ! ” called Mr. Calthorp ; and she darted 
tow r ard him. “ Are you sure that you wish to 
ride in this exhibition, darling ? Are you timid ? 
Because there are a great many here, it seems ; 
and you need not if you do not like. It will be 
different from an ordinary occasion.” 

“ But I do wish, Papa dear, if you don’t mind ; 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


47 


because Bob would break his heart if I did n’t. 
He told me so. And I ’in going to win, too. 
Then I ’ll get a lot of money to give poor old Jim, 
for his mother. Yes, yes ! I want to ride ! And 
I will — win ! ” 


CHAPTER IV. 


EFORE the en- 
tertainment 
really began, 
Sutro Yives 
gave a little pri- 
vate exhibition 
on his own ac- 
count ; and his 
dashings to and 
fro across the 
arena, directly 
in Lord Plun- 
kett’s point of 
view, were intended to excite that gentleman’s 
curiosity and admiration, — which object was 
accomplished. 

“ Gorgeous. Old Spaniard. Silver. Robbed 



SUTRO S EXHIBITION. 


a mine. 

Steenie, mounted on her piebald Tito, was 
standing close to the seat erected for the pro- 
prietor, and explained for his benefit : “ Oh, 
Sutro has had all those things for ever so long; 
since he was a young man, I b’lieve. He said 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 49 

he would show you what an ‘ old Ca’fornian 
caballero was like ! ’ See ! He ’s all red and yel- 
low and white. Listen to the tinkle of the silver 
chains among his trappings ! Is n’t he proud as 
proud — my Sutro ? My father says his vanity 
would be ’musing if it were n’t so ’thetic.” 

“ Pathetic, dear ; ” corrected Mr. Calthorp, 
guided by her voice to her side. 

“Pathetic? Why?” demanded Lord Plunkett. 

“ Because although his family was once wealthy, 
almost beyond compute, this poor old fellow is 
reduced to live a dependent on the lands that 
were his fathers’, now a stranger’s. His shrivelled 
body in that gay attire is but a fitting type of 
his changed fortunes.” 

“ Why ! Pshaw ! Hm-m,” commented his 
lordship, uneasily, distressed, as he ever was, by 
thought of any other’s unhappiness. 

“But, Papa dear, isn’t he always talking 
about his ‘ estate ’ ? He says that he is richer 
still than anybody hereabout; and that if he 
wants money all he has to do is — something or 
other ! ” 

“ The case with most of us,” laughed Mr. 
Calthorp. “But Sutro does still retain a small 
piece of property, — small as compared with his 
former possessions, apparently as worthless as 
4 


50 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

the Mojave. It is the last spur of the mountain 
range on the east, there ; and, from its peculiar 
summit — a gigantic rock cleft into three peaks 
* — called Santa Trinidad. Can you see ? Point 
it out, Steenie, please.” 

“ Yes, yes. See. Barren. Worth nothing ? ” 

“ So I think. So others have thought ; or 
worth so little that in any transfer of this hacienda 
[estate] no purchaser has been anxious to pos- 
sess La Trinidad, even if it had been for sale. 
There are many ugly traditions concerning it ; 
but the plain and existing fact is quite ugly 
enough for me. It is infested with rattle- 
snakes, its cloven crest being their especial 
home.” 

“ Hm-m. Crime. Exterminate. Should be.” 

“ They do not wander far afield ; but, should 
they become troublesome they would, doubtless, 
be exterminated. The Indians are their natural 
enemies — or friends ; seeming to have no fear 
of them, yet killing them off in great numbers 
for the sake of their oil, which is sold at high 
prices.” 

“ Try to buy it. Trinidad. Hm-m. How 
much to offer ? ” 

“ I cannot advise you ; for Sutro would fix its 
value at an absurdly enormous figure. Besides, 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 51 

there is no hope of his selling. Hark ! Is n’t 
that the signal for the ‘ Grand Entree ’ ? ” 

The notes of a fifer, playing merrily, floated 
across the arena. It was the signal agreed upon, 
and the thirty-odd horsemen who were to partici- 
pate in the tournament gathered hastily behind 
the canvas screen on the opposite side of the 
campus. 

Now, as has been said, Steenie was not expected 
to ride until the closing part of the entertain- 
ment ; and she might have remained by her 
father’s side, a mere spectator of all the rest, had 
she so desired ; but when, at the first notes of 
the musician’s call, old Sutro plunged spur into 
Mazan'’s flank and dashed forward to the meet, 
her excitement rose to the highest. She sit still 
and watch ! — while Tito’s dainty hoofs were 
dancing up and down, like feminine feet eager 
for the waltz ! No, no ! Not so, indeed ! Away 
she flew, and the piebald horse followed the 
brown mare behind the canvas wall. 

“ Tra-la-la ! Tra-la-la ! Toot-a-toot ! ” Emerged 
the young Mexican fifer on his sturdy broncho ; 
and though he was proud indeed of his position 
that day, he was but the preface to the story, — 
unnoticed and of small account. 

Sutro Yives really led the cavalcade, having 


52 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

been appointed to this honor because of his age, 
and perhaps of his assumption, — for he was not 
the one to lose the prestige a little swagger gives 
to a weak argument ; and, although he was a fine 
rider, there were many others finer, and Ken- 
tucky Bob’s great gray horse was far ahead 
of pretty Mazan' for symmetry and graceful 
strength. 

However, the latter person was quite willing 
to “ play second fiddle so long’s the Little Un ’s 
with me,” and she had naturally guided Tito to 
the gray’s side. 

The other actors in the entertainment followed 
in single file, and even a captious critic would 
have been forced to admit that they made a 
magnificent appearance. The glossy sides, the 
waving manes and tails, the gay caparisons and 
the regular hoof-beats of the beautiful animals fitly 
accorded with that free bearing of the stalwart 
riders, which is native to those who dwell in wide 
spaces and under no roof but the sky. 

Upon Lord Plunkett, to whom all this was new, 
the impression made by that scene was profound. 
It exceeded his highest expectations, and they 
had been great. It made him feel himself a 
bigger man — physically and mentally — to be 
served by such men as these, and his kindly 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 53 

heart warmed to the “ Americans ” then and 
there with a degree of respect and cordiality he 
had never before accorded them. 

Then the marchings and countermarchings 
began, and Steenie with a childish caprice darted 
out of the ranks again and back to her father’s 
side, to whom she eagerly described all that was 
going forward ; already learning with the intui- 
tion of her tender heart to become “ sight to the 
blind,” and assuming toward him a motherly air 
which sat quaintly enough upon her merry face. 

“ Eh ? What ? Hm-m. Why ? ” queried the 
guest of honor, as, some time later, a prolonged 
shout rent the air ; for he could see nothing 
especially fine about the half-dozen lads who now 
rode into the arena upon the backs of their rough- 
coated bronchos. 

“ The programme ! ” cried Steenie, determined 
that a paper prepared with such labor by one of 
her “ boys ” should be duly appreciated. 

“ Hm-m ! ‘ Number Seven. Knife Act ! ’ Well ? 
What?” 

“ Watch and see, dear Mr. Plunkett ! Look — 
look ! It ’s better than telling.” 

“And something as difficult as rare,” added 
Mr. Calthorp. 

The performers of “Number Seven” rode 


54 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

quietly to the centre of the field, where one 
stooped to plunge into the soft earth a large 
knife, burying the blade to the hilt. Then the 
six horsemen wheeled and rode slowly back to 
the starting-point, whence, at the fifer’s signal, 
they began a wild and wide circuit of the “ ring,” 
repeating this several times. Each repetition 
brought them nearer to the centre ; and at last, 
when they had attained their maddest, fleetest 
pace, the contestants uttered a shout, and bore 
down upon the projecting knife-handle. Each 
rider leaned far out of his saddle, his brow almost 
sweeping the ground, his eyes fixed upon one 
object, and his jaws set firmly for their task. 

“ But — don’t understand. Eh ? ” 

“ The knife ! the knife ! See ! Each has one 
trial ; each seeks to be first. See how they 
crowd ! To pull it out with his teeth — See ! 
See ! Ah ! Natan' ! Na — tan' ! ” The child’s 
voice rose to a shrill cheer, which was caught 
up and echoed again and again. 

Natan', indeed, who with the knife-hilt still in 
his teeth and the fierce-looking blade presented 
to the view of the spectators, lifted his hat in 
acknowledgment of the plaudits, and rode straight 
toward his beloved “ Mascot.” Then he accom- 
plished a second feat, scarcely less difficult than 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 55 

the first ; for still at break-neck speed he reached 
Steenie’s side, and, without touching the knife 
with his hands, thrust it deftly through a gay 
little cockade fixed to Tito’s head-stall. Then 
he rode off again at the same unbroken pace, and 
the “ Seventh Number ” of the programme was 
ended. 

“ Hark ! the fifer again ! That is my signal ! ” 
exclaimed Steenie, and waving her hand, gal- 
loped away to join the “boys.” 

“ Number Eight ” was a trial of skill almost 
as difficult as the “ knife race ” had been, and 
consisted in lifting from the ground, while riding 
at full speed, a handkerchief which had been 
thrown there. Now, Steenie’s childish arms 
could not compete with those of grown men, 
and to supplement their shortness she was to hold 
the knife which Natan' had won, and catch up 
the handkerchief on its point, — if she could ! 

“ Of course, it is a foregone conclusion that she 
will win,” remarked some person near Mr. Cal- 
thorp. “ Those fellows idolize that child, and 
they won’t half try to beat her.” 

“Beg pardon, but it will be a ‘fair, square’ 
trial,” corrected the manager, turning toward the 
speaker. “ Steenie would not ride if they had 
not promised her that. She is determined to 


56 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

win, and I think she will, but she will do so 
honestly. She is quicker of motion than the 
others, and has a judgment about distances which 
seems like instinct. Besides, she and Tito have 
grown up together, and he understands her like 
a second self.” 

“ Hm-m. Not afraid ? Danger ? Thrown ? ” 

“ No, my lord, I am not afraid. She never 
was thrown, and she began her riding in the first 
year of her life.” 

“ Eh ? What ? Amazing ! ‘ California story ’ ? ” 

The proud father laughed. “ A ‘ California 
story,’ certainly, but a true one. Those fellows 
adopted her from the outset. They fixed up a 
sort of box-saddle, cushioned and perfectly safe, 
and strapped it on Tito’s back. He was but a 
colt then, and I would not have allowed it per- 
haps ; but they persuaded Suzan' in my absence, 
and when I saw how it worked I did not object. 
That is how it began. To-day — it ends.” 

A sudden wave of regret swept over poor Mr. 
Calthorp’s heart, and turning away from a spec- 
tacle his affliction prevented his witnessing, he 
sought the retirement of his own apartments. 
“ My dear little girl ! How changed her life 
will be ! From this freedom, this queenship, into 
the restriction of a country town and the sub- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 57 

mission of a schoolroom. Best for her, doubt- 
less, but — poor little Steenie ! ” 

Meanwhile Steenie neither pitied nor even 
thought of herself. Side by side with four other 
competitors, the piebald Tito kept his own place, 
and tossed his head in equine enjoyment of the 
excitement, while his young mistress applauded 
him softly, with that praise which was incitement 
as well. 

Round and round the course, till the child’s 
eyes glittered and her cheeks glowed at the shouts 
of encouragement which reached her from every 
point. “ Go it, Little Un ! ” “ Hurrah for the 
‘ Mascot ’ ! ” “ The Little Un’ll win, you bet ! ” 

Such admiration is not the best mental diet for 
a young human being, perhaps, but it had not as 
yet hurt Steenie ; and this was probably the last 
time that it would be hers. With a loyal recog- 
nition of the good-will expressed, she waved her 
hand and laughed and nodded, and “ rode her 
level best.” 

“ Don’t ye let nobody better ye, Little On, else 
you ’ll break Bob’s old heart ! ” w r arned that 
worthy, himself urging the gray horse to its 
utmost. 

“Not I ! ” returned his pupil, and dashed ahead. 

Evidently the contest was between these two, 


58 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

who had outstripped the rest, and now crowded 
each other for the shortest line toward the flut- 
tering bit of cambric on the path before them. 

“ Hurrah! Hurrah! Tito, my Tito! Now, now ! 
Vamos ! Quick — a spurt ! Win — you must ! ” 

Under the very nose of the gray, the little pie- 
bald darted, with his rider half-hanging from the 
saddle and the knife ready for action. Even 
Bob’s well-trained animal swerved a little, — a 
trifle merely, but it cost his master the prize. 

No perceptible halt, but a dip, a rise, and Tito 
was already half-way across the course again, his 
mistress rising in her saddle, and waving trium- 
phantly above her head the shining knife with 
the handkerchief it had pierced clinging about 
the hilt. 

If they had cheered before, the crowd went 
fairly wild at that. Old Sutro and Connecticut 
Jim, sworn enemies that they were, turned in 
their saddles and hugged each other. Lord 
Plunkett shouted and waved till he looked apo- 
plectic; and the reiterated cheers, “ Another for 
the Little Un ! ” “ Another ! ” brought Mr. Cal- 
thorp from his darkened office once more, this 
time with a smile upon his lips. 

But the hour grew late, and the assemblage 
hungry. There was, accordingly, no delay in 



Waving triumphantly above her head the shining knife with the 
handkerchief. — Page 58. 
























































































































































THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 59 

giving the last exhibition, which was Steenie’s 
alone. 

“ The child — prodigy — must not leave. Like 
her ; like her ! ” said Lord Plunkett again, as the 
manager approached. 

“I am glad that you are pleased; but I think 
that you will enjoy this driving scene even more. 
There is no racing, no danger. If the horses are 
not out of training, their action is wonderfully 
fine and graceful. Does that shout mean her 
entrance ? ” 

“ No. Horsemen. Single. Taking stations — 
regular intervals — around the track.” 

“Yes; I understand. They do that to watch 
the horses, for the child’s sake. At the least 
intimation of any animal being fractious or out 
of accord with the rest, the nearest caballero 
rides up and sets the matter right. Usually a 
word of command will answer, but sometimes an 
outrider accompanies her for the whole distance, 
— an extra one, I mean, besides Bob, who always 
follows close behind Steenie ; generally in silence, 
but ready with advice if it is needed. That sec- 
ond signal — is it she ? ” 

“ Yes. Pretty ! pretty ! ” 

In her little wagon, to which was attached a 
wide, curious whiffle-tree, Steenie emerged from 


60 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


the canvas gateway, driving a pair of matched 
bays. The fifer had stationed himself in the 
centre of the plain, with a drummer beside him ; 
and if the music they there discoursed was not 
sweet, at least it was inspiriting, and rendered in 
good time. Best of all, it was the same that had 
been used in training the horses, and they recog- 
nized it at once, falling into step immediately and 
almost perfectly. 

The tune of “ Yankee Doodle ” fits perfectly 
the stepping of a horse ; besides which, it is 
patriotic, and Kentucky Bob was nothing if not 
American. To the tune of “ Yankee Doodle,” 
then, this “ act ” was given ; and though Mr. 
Calthorp smilingly apologized that they had not 
chosen “ God Save the Queen,” the delighted 
Englishman “ did n’t mind in the least.” 

“ What, what ! another pair, eh ? Hey ? ” 

“ Has she made the circuit once ? n 
“ Yes. Four ; drives four ! ” 

Around the course again danced the horses, four 
abreast, and not a break in their paces from start 
to finish. 

“ You darlings ! you have never done so well ! 
Do you know that I am to drive you no more ? 
And are you being just perfect and splendid for 
that ? ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 61 

“ Maybe it ’s ’cause they ’re afeard of the 
Britisher ! ” said a vaquero, teasingly. 

“ No, no! it’s because they love me. Now, 
you others, remember, — not one blunder ! ” 
This to the third pair which was being attached 
to the cart, these last in advance of the other 
four. 

It really was wonderful, — so wonderful that 
not a sound was heard save the strains of the 
music and the unbroken “ pat-pat ” of those 
rhythmic hoof-beats. But when the fourth cir- 
cuit was completed, and waving the soft reins 
which her childish hands seemed too small to 
hold, Steenie stood up in her wagon behind the 
eight now motionless horses, a cheer went forth 
that dwarfed all which had gone before, and that 
caused actual tears to dim the vision of happy 
Kentucky Bob. 

“Ah, ha ! my Little Un ! you done me proud ! 
I can gin up livin’ now ! There ’ll never be 
nothin’ better ’n that sight fer these blamed 
watery eyes ! Not a fail, not a break-step, not 
a nothin’, but jest cl’ar bewitchments ! ” 

“ There you spoke. Nothing but a witch-bairn, 
yet the bonniest this earth ever saw ! ” chimed 
in the Scotch gardener. 

“Are you glad, dear Bob ? ” 


62 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Glad ? I'm heart-broke ! I — I — Oh, my 
Little Un ! you would n’t go fer to leave San’ 
Felisy after this, would you?” 

“ Hark ! the prizes ! That queer little Eng- 
lishman ’ll bust his b’iler soon if somebody don’t 
pay heed to him ! He ’s a dancin’ a reg’lar jig 
over there to catch our ’tention. I ’low you ’ll 
have to be took to him, Miss Steenie ! ” cried 
Tony Miller. 

“ An’ I ’in the man ’at ’ll do it ! ” responded 
her proud instructor, as, swinging his small pupil 
to her accustomed place on his broad shoulder, he 
strode away toward Lord Plunkett’s bench. 

“Hm-m! Gives pleasure ! Clever — wonder- 
ful ! Prize — won it ! Eh ? What ? Every- 
body ? ” 

“ Huckleberries ! W on it — of — course ! Knew 
she would ! ” 

Stooping low, Steenie extended her hand ea- 
gerly for the purse outstretched toward her, and 
for a moment a revulsion of feeling swept over 
the donor’s heart. For the sake of the reward, 
then ? So mercenary, was she ? 

But she had no sooner received it, and mur- 
mured her hasty “ Thank you,” than she de- 
manded, “Jim! Jim! I want Jim!” 

Ah! my lord had forgotten “Jim,” and he 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 63 

watched curiously as the shy fellow made his 
way through the crowd to Bob’s side. 

“Here, Jim! I’ve won it. It’s all for you. 
For your consumption, — your mother’s, I mean 
That is, I ’m going to give it to you if you ’ll 
promise me one thing. You will, won’t you, 
dear Jim ? ” 

“I — I — Miss Steenie — I don’t understand.” 

“ Please don’t be stupid, Jim ! Think. Did n’t 
you tell me ’bout the dear old mother an’ her con- 
sumption, an’ how, if it was n’t for your 4 habits,’ 
you ’d bring her out to California to live in the 
sunshine ; but fast as you get your wages, away 
they go on your 4 habits ’ ? Did n’t you, Jim 
Sutton?” 

44 Ye-es,” shamefacedly. 

44 Well, you thought the Little Un didn’t know 
what 4 habits ’ were ; but I asked my father, and 
he says your 4 habits ’ make you drink bad liquor 
an’ stuff, an’ waste your earnings. You ’re a good 
man, my father says, an’ trustible, only for them. 
So now, you see, we ’ve got ahead of them for 
once ; and I want you to take this money and 
send to that cold place and bring that good old 
mother right away out here. Then you won’t be 
lonesome when I ’m gone, and she ’ll keep you out 
of 4 habits,’ like you said she could. Will you?” 


64 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Will I, Little Un ? You bet! An’ — an’ — 
I can’t talk. Bob, you take it. You say sunthin’ 
fer me, — purty, like it orter be said. But — 
Lord! — I can’t — she ain’t — no Little Un, no 
‘ Mascot,’ she ain’t ; she ’s a genooine — angel ! ” 
And Steenie wondered why almost everybody 
cried. 


CHAPTER V. 


/ 



little girl in queer at- 
tire, occupying a sec- 
^ tion of a railway 
sleeper, heard the wel- 


OME days later 


a very weary 
gentleman in 
blue goggles 
and a restless 


mr. calthorp and steenie come announcement of 
the guard passing through the train : “ Next 
station will be Jersey City. Jer-sey-Ci-ty ’s-the- 
next-sta-tion ! ” 

Then followed the expressman with his insinu- 
ating question of, “ Baggage, sir ? Delivered any 
part of the city — baggage ? ” And the newsboy 
with his patois of, “ N’ Yo’k pape’s ? Pos’-Sun- 
’Elegram- World ! Pape’s ? N’ Yo’k pape’s ? ” 

By that time all the passengers were in a bustle 
of excitement, — women hunting and strapping 
stray parcels ; men standing up to stretch their 
cramped limbs, while smiling congratulations to 


5 


66 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

one another that their three-thousand mile jour- 
ney was safely accomplished. 

Cries of, “ Porter, my coat ! ” “ This way, Joe ! 
give me a brush next! ” “ Oh, we’re almost in ! 
See?” echoed here and there. Now, through rows 
of houses, crowding faster and faster upon one 
another ; and then over a net-work of iron rails, 
between numberless cars of every sort, — con- 
stantly threatening a collision that was always 
avoided, — pushed and panted the great “ Over- 
land,” like an exhausted living creature longing 
for rest. 

All this was very familiar .to Mr. Calthorp, but 
quite new and formidable to his little daughter, 
who nestled a bit closer to his side, and looked 
about her with wide, observant eyes. 

“ Are you not glad, Steenie, my darling ? A few 
more trifling changes to make, another two hours 
of railway journeying, and then we shall be at Old 
Knollsboro, at Grandmother’s.” 

“ As glad as anything, Papa dear, only — ” 
She checked herself suddenly, remembering her 
farewell promise to Kentucky Bob that she 
would “ keep a stiff upper lip, an’ not let the 
4 Boss ’ see her weaken, no matter if she did get 
homesick ! ” 

“ Only what, dear ? ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 67 

“ Why — why — I don’t know. I feel so kind 
of queer and sick-y inside of me. I ’in not ill — 
like eating too much candy; but — I don’t feel 
very nice. I mean, it ’s all right, dear Papa. 
And I am really, truly glad. ’Cause then you ’ll 
get rested, won’t you ? And you ’ll go to the eye- 
man and be fixed ; and then — maybe — I s’pose 
we ’ll go home again.” 

But already the train had stopped, and the 
porter, who had neglected these two for more 
importunate passengers, hurried up to give them 
a farewell “ brush ” and to help them with theii; 
parcels. 

Alas ! poor Mr. Calthorp required assistance 
now as he had not done at familiar Santa Felisa. 
The close confinement, the almost sleepless nights 
of the long journey, and the growing anxiety, had 
affected his dim vision most unfavorably ; and 
the constant attention of his little daughter was 
necessary to him as he stepped from the car and 
joined the throng of liberated passengers passing 
forward into the station. 

“Lead me into the ticket office. Can you make 
it out ? Ask any man in uniform.” 

Steenie looked up startled. There was a sharp, 
imperious note in her father’s voice which was 
new to her, forced from him by the sudden con- 


68 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

viction that lie was no longer losing his sight, 
but that it was already lost, and that he had come 
eastward — too late. 

Obediently the little girl touched the arm of an 
official, passing at that moment. “ Please, sir, 
will you tell us where to go ? My father — ” 

Mr. Calthorp took the explanation from her 
lips, and the man in the blue uniform looked com- 
passionately upon these two who seemed so help- 
less, and whose manner so plainly bore the stamp 
of the far west, where threading narrow streets 
and dodging crowds are not every-day events. 

“ Sorry, little one, but — I’m in a hurry. Call 
somebody else ; ” and lie turned away. 

As he did so, he caught the quiver of a girlish, 
travel-soiled lip, and a look of terror in a pair of 
big blue eyes ; and his feet refused to carry him 
further from the spot. 

“ Pshaw! Almost train-time — hm-m. All right, 
Sissy. Here, this way, sir ; ” and slipping his 
arm through Mr. Calthorp’s, the conductor of an 
out-going “ express ” wheeled sharply about, and 
guided his charges into a waiting-room, where he 
consigned them to : “ Here, you, twenty-seven ! 
Look out for these folks ! There you are, little 
one. This man will — ” The rest was lost in the 
distance as, with the skill of a veteran railroader, 


THE LITTLE LxVDY OF THE HORSE. 69 

the kind conductor boarded an already moving 
car and disappeared. 

A little act ; but it cleared the mists from 
Steenie’s eyes and the anxiety from her heart, 
for already “ Twenty-seven ” was saying in tones 
of cheery friendliness, “ All right, little missy ! 
Whar yo’ an’ yo’ pa wanter go at ? ” 

Mr. Calthorp’s explanations were repeated with 
such clearness that, in another moment, a cab had 
been summoned, the travellers assisted into it, and 
the station-man dismissed, with a smile shining 
on his black face and a new quarter in his palm. 

“ I ’m not a bit afraid now, Papa darling. I was 
just at first, ’cause I did n’t understand the place. 
But don’t you be worried now, we ’re all right ; 
and won’t my grandmother be glad to see you ! ” 
The returning invalid had his own opinion on 
that matter; but he did not dampen Steenie’s 
courage by expressing it. 

She went on, heedless of his silence. “ My ! 
what folks and folks ! More than ever came to 
our circus — even that last one ! And what 
makes ’em almost run ? They ’bout hit each 
other, don’t they ? What big wagons ! Oh, that ’s 
a pretty horse ! What big ones at that wagon full 
of ’normousest barrels ! Why are they so many, 
many folks, Papa dear ? Ah, we ’re stopping ! ” 


70 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

More confusion — more changes ; but always 
somebody at hand to guide them, for Mr. Cal- 
thorp had recovered his usual calm, alert manner, 
and could direct, if he could not see his path. 
A second brief railway trip, through which Steenie 
slept comfortably against her father’s arm, and 
then — they were standing before the great door 
of a big white house, whence a brass lion’s-head 
knocker grinned maliciously upon them. Though 
unguided by his eyes, Mr. Calthorp’s hand rose 
naturally till it seized a curious bar-like tongue 
which hung from the beast’s mouth, and struck 
it sharply against the polished plate. 

“ Whack ! Rat-a-tat ! ” 

Which brought the sound of approaching feet ; 
and the door opened noiselessly, to show within 
the aperture a very stiff old man. 

“ Is Madam Calthorp at home ? ” 

“ Yes. But — my-soul-I-declare ! Is it you, 
Mr. Daniel ? ” 

66 And you, Resolved Tubbs ? I know your 
voice ! ” The visitor’s hand was extended and 
clasped, though cautiously, by the trembling one 
of the old servitor. “ My eyes — ” 

“ I see, I see, sir. This way — you know — 
Madam is in the library. I don’t think she ex- 
pected you so soon.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 71 

“ Maybe not. Though my secretary wrote.” 

“ This way, sir.” Mr. Tubbs had become him- 
self again : a wooden-visaged old man who liked 
to express no opinion whatever, till it had been 
formed for him by his mistress of many years. 
He had not been able yet to judge whether that 
mistress would rejoice at this home-coming of her 
only son, or not ; and he waited his cue before 
knowing his own sentiments. 

“ Ah ! if it is as it used to be, I can find my 
own way, Resolved. The table by the wall — I 
recall its red wool cover with the black stamp 
exactly in the middle ; the two oaken chairs 
here ; and here — the hat-rack ! At home, 
indeed ! Even the very aroma of lavender and 
southernwood from those upper chambers is 
unchanged ! ” 

Then the blue goggles could not hide the glad- 
ness which leaped to the son’s face as he turned 
the brass knob of the library door, and cried out, 
“ Mother ! are you here ? ” 

There was a moment’s hesitation, which Daniel 
Cal thorp’s dim eyes could not see; then the rustle 
of silken skirts, and the stately old lady of the 
mansion had risen from her chair and crossed the 
room, to take her boy’s hands in her own, and to 
imprint upon his bearded cheek a kiss of greet- 


72 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

ing. “So soon, Daniel? I had not looked for 
you until next week.” 

“Yes; I had a message sent. You see, I was 
able to get through a bit earlier, and I could en- 
dure no unnecessary delay. Here, darling, this 
is Grandmother.” 

In all her life Steenie had never looked upon 
the face of any woman who bore a kinship to 
herself, and the dreams of her romantic little 
heart had clustered about this unknown relative 
with an intensity such as only childhood knows. 
So she scarcely waited to have her elders’ hands 
unclasped before she sprang forward between her 
father and his mother, and precipitated herself 
upon that lady’s neck. “ Oh, I thought you would 
be pretty ! but you ’re prettier than anything I 
ever saw ! ” 

Madam Calthorp staggered a little, — perhaps 
from the violence of this attack upon her person, 
perhaps from surprise at the words ; then she 
quietly loosened the child’s clinging arms and 
released herself. “ You are an impulsive little 
girl, Steenie ! Let me see, how old are you ? ” 

“ Ten ; going on ’leven.” 

“Say eleven.’ You are very large of your 
age; I should think you might be older.” 

Then there was an awkward silence, which the 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 73 

son broke by groping across the room to a sofa 
in the bay-window, where he sank down as if 
exhausted. Steenie bounded to his side, flashing 
a defiant glance at the tall old madam as she 
passed. “ What is it, my Papa ? Are you ill ? ” 
“ No, no ; not at all ! But we are both travel- 
soiled, and unfit for your dainty rooms, Mother. 
What quarters have you given us ? We will go 
and freshen up a bit.” 

Old Tubbs, still waiting outside the door, lis- 
tened critically for his mistress’s reply. From it 
he would form his own basis of action. 

“ I gave you the spare chamber, Daniel ; your 
daughter can take the little room next.” But 
Madam’s voice, saying this, sounded as if she 
were somewhat perplexed. 

“ Hm-m ! ” said Resolved to himself, “ if she ’d 
answered up quick, ‘ Your old room,’ I’d a knowed 
she was glad, an’ meant things as they uset ter be. 
But — ‘ spare room ! ’ that means he ’s comp’ny. 
She hain’t fergot how he went away, ner the 
dozen years between. Well, my — soul — I — 
declare — I’m sure I know which side my bread ’s 
buttered ! An’ comp’ny it is ! ” 

“ Shall I carry yer bag, Mr. Daniel ? ” asked 
this astute servant, as the travellers emerged 
from the library. 


74 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ No ; oh, no ! thank you. I fancy I ’m better 
able than you, old fellow. Nothing wrong with 
me but my eyes. This way, sweetheart.” 

Whatever the feeling of disappointment in 
Daniel Calthorp’s heart, there was nothing but 
gayety in Steenie’s, as she tripped merrily up the 
broad stairs behind him, — stopping now to ex- 
amine the slender polished rods which held the 
carpet in place, and now to gaze through the win- 
dow on the landing at the old-fashioned garden, 
where the late April snows still lingered in the 
clefts of the lilac branches and made a white 
border for the rows of box. 

“ Oh ! is n’t it just like a story-book ? And 
my grandmother looks like pictures of queens. 
She makes me think of the cleanest things I ever 
saw. Did you notice ? ” 

“ Be eyes for me, little one, and tell me just 
what you saw. Her face, is it wrinkled ? Is her 
hair gray ? Did she wear glasses ? ” 

“ Her face is white, — whiter than anybody’s 
I ever saw, ’cept Irish Kate’s little baby’s. And 
her hair is like that pretty snow out there, all 
round little rolls each side her eyes; and she 
has some soft white stuff on her head, and more 
around her neck and her wrists. Her dress is 
black silk, and — I love her ! ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 75 

“ 1 ’m glad — very glad of that ! ” exclaimed 
Mr. Calthorp, earnestly. The power of Steenie’s 
love he believed to be irresistible. 

“ But is n’t Mr. Tubbs funny ? He makes me 
think of raisin grapes that have n’t dried right. 
And he wears his spectacles up on the bald part 
of his head ; and he looks lots older ’n Sutro. 
How old is he, Papa?” 

“ Maybe seventy ; I don’t know exactly. Now, 
can you make yourself tidy alone ? There are no 
young women servants in this old house, and you 
must do everything you can for yourself. But I 
will help you with your hair if it bothers you, as 
I did, or tried to do, on the train.” 

How r ever, he was saved this trouble ; for at 
that moment came a knock upon the door of the 
little room assigned to Steenie, and, at her swift 
opening of it, an old lady entered. 

At least Steenie called her “lady,” and was 
amazed when this prim person, in the black 
alpaca gown and wearing spectacles, remarked : 
“ Madam sent me to wash and dress you. Come 
here ! ” 

“ But — I — T can do it for myself. I ’d rather. 
I’m very soiled ; the car was so dusty And you 
look so clean ! Everybody is so ter’ble clean 
here ! ” 


76 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Hoity-toity ! Come. I ’ve no time ter waste.” 

Steenie moved forward, slowly, and greatly 
wondering. It had seemed all right to have gay 
young Suzan' preside at her toilet, but a severe- 
looking and venerable creature like this was 
quite a different matter. 

“ Where is the bath-room, please ? ” 

“ The bath-room ! There ain’t none. Hm-m. 
Did ye expect a palace ? ” 

“ A palace ! I was talking ’bout water. What ’ll 
I do then? I’ve been a’most a week in that 
dirty car — and I — Maybe Papa knows.” She 
applied at her father’s key-hole for advice, and 
he took the direction of affairs into his own 
hands. 

“ Just fix up a tub in your old wash-room, 
won’t you, Mary Jane? And let Steenie have 
her splash there. It will save messing your 
clean room, and I will explain to my mother.” 

Mary Jane went away with a sniff, and her 
nose in the air ; sternly muttering about “ folks 
turning the house topsy-turvy, an’ thinkin’ the 
hull world b’longed to ’em ; ” and Steenie fol- 
lowed, meekly. She was very much in terror of 
the sharp-visaged old spinster, whose favor she 
had, however, unwittingly won by her desire for 
cleanliness; although Mary Jane was not the 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 77 

woman to admit that at once. She was shown 
into the bare-floored, and rather chilly wash- 
room, where a round blue tub was deposited upon 
the boards with a decided bang, and promptly 
partially filled with several bucketsful of cold 
water from the “ system ” pump, after which 
Mary Jane disappeared. 

Then the new-comer forgot her fear in her 
curiosity, and was busily poking about, inspecting 
her surroundings, when her ancient attendant re- 
entered, tossed another pail of boiling water into 
the previous ones of cold, and again withdrew. 

An hour later, Steenie, very fresh and dainty 
in her white frock, and with her rebellious curls 
brushed into a semblance of order by her father’s 
untrained hand, bounded gayly through the long, 
cold halls, and in at the library door, just in 
time to overhear the old servant explaining to 
Madam : “ She ’ll be a cruel lot o’ trouble, an’ 
mebbe the death on us with her noise ; but — 
she ’s clean ! Why, ma’am, she says she takes 
a hull body-wash, ever’ day on her life, an’ some- 
times twicet ! An’ if it ’s the truth, she ’s one 
youngun out of a million ! an’ the only one ’t I 
ever see’t liked water in her nateral state. 
She ’s a phenomely. But — my floor ! When I 
went in, half an hour arterwards, there she stood, 


78 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

dancin’ a reg’lar jig, roun’ an’ roun’, an’ splashin’ 
the suds all over her an’ the boards, an’ ever’ 
conceivable thing ! I scairt her out, lively ; an’ 
all she could say fer herself was : ‘ It seemed so 
good an’ funny to use a roun’ tub, stidder a reg’- 
lar long one.’ She ’d a splotched out the last 
drop in another minute. She must a be’n brung 
up a reg’lar heathen, an’ her Mr. Dan’l’s only ! ” 
Steenie, poised on tip-toe, listened to the close 
of the harangue ; certain from the words that 
Mary Jane was frightfully angry and from the 
tone that she was rather pleased. But, at that 
moment, Madam Calthorp perceived her, and mo- 
tioned silence to the speaker. 

“ But I ’m not a heathen, Mary Jane ! My 
father says a heathen is one who worships idols, 
an’ I would n’t be such a dunce as that. I ’ve a 
whole lot of Indian idols at San’ Felisa, an’ 
they ’re as ugly as ugly. The silly things make 
them out of the same clay they do their jars and 
dishes, an’ the jars are far prettier. My father 
says — ” 

“ Steenie, why have you put on a white frock 
on such a day as this ? ” 

“ Why ?” repeated the puzzled visitor. “It’s 
a clean one, only wrinkled in the packing.” 

“ But — a white dress in April ! It is wholly 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 79 

out of place. You will get sick, and have to be 
taken care of. Take it off at once.” 

All the gayety died out of the child’s face, rosy 
from recent scrubbings with soap and water, and 
radiant with health, and a look of strange per- 
plexity succeeded. “I — I can’t, Grandmother. 
I have n’t any other.” 

“ No — other — frock ! ” 

“Not that is clean. My car one is ter’ble 
dirty an’ dusty % My father says it is n’t fit to 
wear any more ; and my horse-back one is n’t 
unpacked ; an’ my rest are just like this. I ’m 
sorry if it is n’t right ; ” with a deprecatory little 
gesture that appealed strangely to Madam Cal- 
thorp’s cold heart. 

“ Well, well ! Do you wear such clothes as 
these all winter in California?” 

“ Yes ; I do. My father says ’at white is the 
only ’propriate color for a little girl.” 

“ White is not a color, Steenie. Learn to be 
accurate. But — go and ask Mary Jane to give 
you my gray cashmere shawl, then put it on 
directly. If you have no suitable clothes, some 
must be procured for you.” 

“Yes’m,” answered Steenie, obediently, and 
ran away, — to return presently, sheathed in a 
great gray calyx, from which her flower-like face 


80 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

peered mischievously out. Then her father’s 
steps were heard descending the stairs, slowly, 
and the child darted off, once more, to clasp 
his arm with a vigor that denoted deep emotion. 
“ Oh, Papa, it was too bad we came ! Do you 
know she does n’t want us ? My pretty, very own 
Grandmother ! She does n’t say so, but I know 
it. She does n’t ! ” 

Daniel Calthorp drew his darling closer to his 
side ; and though he smiled brightly enough, his 
own heart echoed the disappointed words. He 
had known from the moment when his mother’s 
voice had fallen on his now super-sensitive ear 
that his coming had brought her no pleasure, and 
that she had been too truthful to put into her 
welcome a warmth which she did not feel. 

“ Then we must be so patient and kind to her, 
sweetheart, that she can’t help being glad, after 
awhile. I depend upon you, my Blue Eyes, to 
work a miracle.” 

So they entered the Madam’s presence once 
more, and together ; and though she saw some- 
thing pathetic in the grouping of that helpless 
pair, the disturbance and annoyance which their 
coming was to her calm, self-sufficient life far 
outweighed her pity. 


CHAPTER VI. 



Y -soul -I-de- 
clare! you 
here? Don’t ye 
know Madam 
don’t ’low nobody to 
tetch her books?” 
almost shouted Re- 
solved Tubbs, en- 
tering the library 
on the morning 
following “Mr. 
Daniel’s ” arrival, 
and, early as the 
hour was, finding 
the place already occupied by Steenie. Sprawl- 
ing flat upon the hearth-rug, and supporting her- 
self upon her elbows, she turned the leaves of a 
richly illustrated folio, while piles of other vol- 
umes were heaped about her, in careless dis- 
regard of injured bindings. She did not heed, 
because she did not hear, the reproof ; for at 
that moment her childish soul was deep in the 



STEENIE READING. 


82 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Inferno,” following the poet’s dark imagings 
by the aid of Dore’s darker pencillings. She 
had had the handling of few books in her short 
life, but she “ took to them ” as naturally as did 
her stately grandmother, whose quiet existence 
for many years had been among them almost 
wholly. 

“ Don’t you hear, sissy? You mustn’t tetch 
’em, I tell ye ! Git up, quick ! I — I dunno 
what on airth she’d say if she was ter come 
in this minute ! ” 

“ What, sir ? ” asked Steenie, absently, lifting 
a face white with horror, “ is it true ? ” 

“ True as the gospel ; you ’d better look out ! ” 

“ Is it near here, — near this very Old Knolls- 
boro’ town ? ” 

“ Hm-m ! I vum I never see nothin’ like ye ! 
I do b’lieve ye ain’t right bright ! ” 

“ Is it?” again demanded the child, oblivious 
to any personal remarks. 

“ I dunno nothin’ ’bout printed trash, an’ you 
hain’t no call to, nuther. But you ’ll hear sunthin’ 
’at ’ll make yer ears buzz if you don’t put them 
books right square back where ye got ’em ! I 
ain’t a goin’ ter wait on ye, like you ’pear ter be 
uset ter havin’ folks do ! I ’ve got the fires ter 
’tend, the chores ter do, an’ ten thousan’ more 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 83 

pesky things, all this very morning an' my lum- 
bago achin’ me fit ter split.” 

“ What ’s a lumbago ? ” asked Steenie, sitting 
up cross-legged, and trying to hold the great book 
on her small lap. 

u It ’s — Thunder an’ lightnin’ ! Ou — uch ! ” 
With a groan that was almost a yell, Resolved 
arose from the stooping posture which, in an 
unwary moment, he had assumed before the grate 
he was cleaning, and clapped his gnarled fingers 
to “ the small of his back.” 

Whereupon Steenie likewise sprang up and 
retreated to the further corner of the apart- 
ment, leaving the volume de luxe to fall where 
it happened. “ What ’s the matter ? ” she de- 
manded, from that safe distance, half-laughing, 
half-crying, for her vivid imagination had been 
overwrought by the lurid pictures she had been 
studying, and Mr. Tubbs’s shriek seemed to pres- 
age some of the intolerable torments which she 
had seen depicted. 

“ The lumbago, I told ye ! Blast a youngun, 
— etarnally askin’ questions! Wait till ye git 
ter be as old as I be, an’ you ’ll know, I guess ! ” 

“ I ’ll wait ! ” responded Steenie, willingly, and 
with no intentional disrespect. 

“ Ye will, will ye ? you saas-box ! Where ye 


84 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

ever lived ter have no respect fer age ? ” And, 
mindless of his affliction, the exasperated Mr. 
Tubbs started in pursuit of the offender, to drive 
her from his sight. 

But she, mistaking his intention, and fancying 
a terrible resemblance between his pain-contorted 
face and the anguished ones of the “ Inferno ” 
engravings, crouched back in her corner, and, 
throwing her arms up rigidly above her head, 
uttered shriek after shriek of terror. Beyond 
her mild dread of “ seeing folks angry,” it was 
her first experience of fear, and it took absolute 
possession of her mind. 

“ Shet up ! shet up ! My-soul-I* declare, 
you’re the beatenest youngun I ever see! Why 
on airth could n’t ye stay back thar in Cali- 
forny stidder cornin’ ter torment them ’at don’t 
want ye ? ” But as, in his eagerness to quiet this 
unprecedented disturbance of that orderly house, 
the deluded servant continued to advance men- 
acingly, Steenie continued to scream ; until, in 
the midst of the uproar, a white-haired figure 
appeared in the doorway, when she darted in- 
stantly forward and buried her face in her grand- 
mother’s skirt. 

As Resolved afterwards expressed it, he “ was 
struck dumberfoun’ an’ could n’t say nothin’ ; ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 85 

and as Steenie was also speechless, the startled 
mistress of the house was left to draw her own 
conclusions from the scene. 

“ Steenie, look up ! ” 

Steenie shivered and obeyed. “Is it true, 
Grandmother? Does he really, truly know?” 
Again that unwonted stirring in the hitherto 
cold heart of the Madam moved her to ask 
almost gently, “ What true, child ? ” 

“About men being twisted into trees — and 
swimming in flames — and — and — awful every- 
things ! He says so.” 

The lady’s eyes strayed more critically over 
the apartment, and, if any of that perfectly 
trained woman’s movements could ever be such, 
the start she gave was violent. Steenie felt her- 
self pushed suddenly aside, and saw her grand- 
mother cross hastily to the ill-used Dante, which 
she raised with a care far more loving than she 
had yet bestowed upon the motherless child of 
her blind, only son. 

“ Steenie ! Steenie Calthorp ! Listen to me. 
Understand me — fully. I forbid you ever 
touching a single volume in this room, in this 
house, which I do not, personally, place in your 
hands.” 

The little girl was too surprised to speak. 


86 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

When, at last, she found her voice, she asked, 
innocently enough : “ Are n’t they to read ? The 
books ! ” 

“ By those who comprehend their value. But 
you are to obey me, implicitly. Will you ? ” 

“ Yes ’m. So my father said,” answered 
Steenie, sweetly. “ But, you see, I did n’t know 
they were n’t to be looked at till Mr. Resolved 
said so. We did n’t have any books at San’ 
Felisa, ’cept Papa’s figurey ones, and some ’at 
did n’t have pictures. Only mine. The ‘ boys ’ 
used to bring me lovely books, ever’ time they 
went to town. They was 6 Jack the Giant Kil- 
ler,’ and the x\ndersen man’s, an’ a beau-u-tiful 
‘ Mother Goose ’ ! Father Antonio sent me a 
prayer-book ; but it was all in Latin, and my 
father says I must learn English first.” The 
presence of her grandmother had reassured the 
child against any danger from the lumbago-fren- 
zied Mr. Tubbs, and she now leaned contentedly 
against the wall, coolly watching the disarranged 
volumes being returned to their shelves, and 
quite free from any anger against anybody. But 
she could not forget what she had seen, and 
when Madam Cal thorp had finished her labor, 
had closed and locked the glass doors of the old- 
fashioned book-cases, and turned to leave the 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 87 


room, she went forward and clasped the lady’s 
hand. “Did you ever read that book, Grand- 
mother ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

. “ Is it English ? ” 

“ No, Italian. Dante, who wrote it, was an 
Italian poet.” 

“ Is it near here, — where those poor people are ?” 

“ Steenie ! Ah, how can I tell ! ” 

“ Can’t you ? I thought you knew everything. 
My father says you are the most intelligy 
woman of his ’quaintance. He said he wished 
I could be like you ; but he did n’t think I could, 
’cause something was the matter with my nature, 
’at made it different.” 

“ Say ‘ dif-fer-ent,’ Steenie. Speak all your 
words distinctly.” 

“ Dif-fer-ent. It takes longer, doesn’t it? ” 

“ It commonly takes longer to do things well 
than ill. It is the fault of the present generation 
to slur everything, in its rush for ‘ time.’ ” 

“ Yes ’m,” assented Steenie, politely, to whom 
this was as Greek. 

“ Did you ever go to school, my dear ? ” 

“ No. But my father says I may while I ’m 
here. I don’t much care about it.” 

“ Why not ? ” 


88 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Oh, ’cause. One thing, it ’s in a house, he 
says, an’ I like out-doors. I never stay in the 
house, ’cept nights. Here comes Papa ! Is 
breakfast ready ? I’m awful hungry.” 

Steenie’s manners and speech continually jarred 
upon Madam Calthorp’s ideas of propriety ; and 
propriety was the rule of her solitary life But, 
although she had dreaded this invasion of her 
quiet by a “ noisy child,” and by the son whose 
many years of absence had made him seem a 
stranger to her, yet she was impartial enough to 
acknowledge that there was something very win- 
ning and lovable about the little girl. 

Breakfast over, mother and son retired to the 
library to “ talk business,” and the other member 
of the family party was left free to amuse her- 
self as she chose. “ Only take care not to meddle, 
nor get into mischief, darling,” added Mr. Cal- 
thorp to his kiss of dismissal. 

“Not if I can help it, Papa dear, but ’most ever’- 
thing here seems to be 4 mischief.’ I think I ’ll 
go out-doors.” 

Madam did not hear this decision, or she would 
have forbidden it, — not from any desire to thwart 
Steenie’s enjoyment, but because the child was 
not fitly apparelled to appear on the streets of 
respectable Old Knollsboro, where, though fash- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE nORSE. 89 

ions were not advanced, very rigid notions were 
held of what should or should not be vrorn. 

Bare-headed and in her white frock, still bun- 
dled about with the gray cashmere shawl, the 
little stranger wandered out into the garden, and 
thence to the street. 

April was half gone, and till then the weather 
had been cold; but that morning came one of 
those sudden changes which seem like summer 
warmth gone astray. The snow-patches melted 
swiftly, the frozen sidewalks thawed, and the 
whole earth became a bed of softest mud, over 
which Steenie pursued her sticky way, too intent 
upon her other surroundings to notice what went 
on beneath her feet. 

“ How the birds sing ! There are more birds 
here than at San’ Felisa, I do b’lieve. And the 
sun shines a’most as bright. Dear me ! I wish 
I ’d worn my hat — but never mind. This shawl ’s 
awful hot. I ’ll take it off an’ lay it on the fence. 
Hm-m. How funny ! Everybody has a big white 
house an’ a little white railing around it, an’ that ’s 
all. But it looks pleasant down that road. I wish 
Tito was here. Dear, darling Tito ! It seems — ” 

“Whooa! Whooa ! Isay! Hold — on — don’t 
— whooa-a ! ” 

Steenie turned swiftly round. Down the street 


90 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

behind her galloped a wildly excited horse, with 
a little girl on his back ; while following fast 
came a second beast, ridden by a terrified groom. 
The small equestrian had lost her control of her ani- 
mal, — if control she had ever had, — and he had 
taken fright or become suddenly vicious ; keeping 
just so far in advance of the pursuer as to avoid 
capture, and dancing upon his hind legs between 
whiles, in a manner inimical to any rider’s safety 
and doubly dangerous to one so young as she who 
still clung to her saddle, her fingers clasping the 
pommel in the rigidity of fear. 

“ Oli, he ’s running away ! The naughty 
fellow ! ” 

Thought and action came together ; for the very 
sound of a horse’s foot-fall had roused Steenie’s 
spirit to its full activity, even before she had 
turned to learn that the sound meant danger. 

“Hola! Hold!” she cried softly, and bounded 
into the road ; skimming the muddy surface like 
a swallow and racing as her old Indian friend, 
Wanka, had taught her in the games at Santa 
Felisa. She had thrown up her hand, warningly, 
to the groom, who, aghast at seeing a second 
child rush into peril, checked his own horse, 
almost unconsciously. 

“That’s the wisest thing he could do! Why 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 91 

did n’t he stop before ? ” thought Steenie ; u that 
little girl’s horse knew he was being chased, 
and — ” 

The small hands on the pommel were slowly 
slipping loose ; but the fleet-footed westerner had 
gained the gray beast’s side, had sprung upon it, 
had thrown herself astride the quivering shoulders, 
and caught up the dangling bridle. 

“ Hold on to me, girl! Tight — my waist — 
I’ll take care^ — Hold, hold , my pretty one! Ce, 
ce, ce ! Wouldst thou ? But, no ! ” 

How was it done ? That is Steenie’s secret, 
learned from Kentucky Bob and loyally kept be- 
cause of her promise ; but this is what happened : 
she leaned her face far forward till her pretty 
lips were close beside the frantic animal’s ear, 
and there cooed to him in half-whispered sounds, 
till he paused for one second to listen, — and in 
that brief instant yielded his equine will to her 
human one. 

“ Good boy ! So, so, my hero ! Softly now, — as 
a well-bred horse should go ! Don’t you be afraid, 
little girl ! He ’s — what ’s his name ? ” 

“ Ki-inks,” faltered a timid voice. 

“ Well, I should think so ! He’s full of kinks ; 
but he ’s a beauty ! Are n’t you, dear ? ” which 
flattery the mettlesome creature seemed to heed, 


92 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

for he fell into a measured pace, and tossed his 
mane proudly, as who should say : “ Behold me ! 
A fine fellow am I ! ” 

A few rods further of this movement, then 
Steenie checked Kinks entirely ; and though he 
quivered and trembled, and looked nervously 
around at the groom riding up and the crowds 
who had collected on the sidewalk, he suffered 
the restraint imposed upon him by the stroking 
of her soft little hands and her caressing voice. 
Then she asked : “ Where do you live, girl ? Do 
you want to go home ? ” 

“ Yes, yes ! I live down there,” answered the 
rescued child, loosing one arm from her pre- 
server’s waist sufficiently to point forwards down 
the avenue. 

“ Shall I get off ? Can you ride alone ? ” 

“ No — no — no ! Let me down ! Please ! ” 

“ Wait. Let me tell you. Is he your horse ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Do you love him ? ” 

“ Not — now. I did — but now I hate him ! 
Let me down ! ” 

The groom approached and dismounted to obey 
this demand ; but Steenie wheeled sidewise, so 
that Kinks could look his stable-mate squarely in 
the face. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 93 

“ Not yet, little girl. He ’s beautiful, and you 
ought to want to ride him. Why don’t you ? ” 

“ I ’m afraid.” 

“ You need n’t be. Something made him angry ; 
then he ran away. He ’s ashamed now.” 

“ Ashamed ? Why, how do you know ? ” 

“ He says so, plain enough. See here, Kink- 
sey, hold up your head. Look at your little lady 
an’ tell her you ’re sorry.” 

To the astonishment of every on-looker the little 
bareheaded stranger coolly seized the gray’s fore- 
lock and pulled his head backward, so that his 
eyes could be seen ; and laughing softly, but lov- 
ingly, she maintained his position till his owner 
leaned forward and satisfied her own curiosity. 

“ Why — it is so ! He does look as if he 
wanted to hide ! ” 

It was quite true. If ever an equine counte- 
nance expressed shame and regret, that of the 
now humbled Kinks did so at that moment. 

Probably it was the first time in their lives 
that the people in that wondering crowd had 
ever thought whether a horse was capable of 
facial expression ; and it gave them food for re- 
flection. Either their own eyes deceived them, 
or the stranger child was a “witch,” or — a 
horse did have emotions, — and showed them. 


94 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


“ Now, you won’t be naughty and unkind to 
him, will you, — just because he did n’t behave 
p’lite for once?” 

“ I — I’m not naughty. He ’s nothing but a 
horse, and I ’m folks. I know things.” 

“ So does he. He knows more ’n you or I do ; 
an’ he did n’t have to go to school, neither.” 

“ You ’re an awful funny girl.” 

“So are you. Say, shall I get off? Will you 
ride him alone ? ” 

“No — no! Stay on. If you will, I won’t 
get off at all. I ’ll ride all the way home. Will 
you?” 

“ May I ? ‘ Sta buen ’ [that is good] ! But 
move back. I ’m sitting horrid.” 

“Won ’t I fall off?” 

“Won’t you — pooh! Are all girls afraid in 
Old Knollsboro ? ” 

“I — don’t — know.” 

“ I hope not. I ’ve had a great cur’osity to 
see another girl besides myself, but I never did, — 
that is, to talk to ’em. If they ’re all so scarey 
as you, I shall be awful disjointed.” 

“ You ’re a nasty, mean, hateful thing ! So 
there ! ” 

“Why — what?” The face which Steenie 
turned toward her companion showed not the 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


95 


slightest resentment, but the sincerest astonish- 
ment. “ What did I do ? ” 

“You said I was ‘scarey’ — and — and — 
things ! ” 

“ But are n’t you ? I thought so. May be I 
was mistookened. But Kinks thinks it ’s time 
to go. Are you ready? What’s your name?” 

“Beatrice. Ye — es. I — guess — so. Won’t 
he — run away — again ? ” 

“ He ’ll run like a coyote ! But he won’t 
behave bad any more. Ready ? ” 

“ Ye — es.” 

“ Now, then ! Pronto [get on] ! ” Away dashed 
Kinks, bearing his double burden, as if deter- 
mined to make up lost time, or to show the rac- 
ing quality of his blood ; but, swift as was his 
pace, he was no longer wild, and seemed but an- 
other young thing, such as those who rode him, 
overflowing with spirit and vitality. 

“ Ah, how good it seems ! A’most like Tito ! ” 

“ Ye — es. I — I like it ! ” assented Beatrice, 
so exhilarated by the rapid motion that she forgot 
her fear. 

“ Which way now ? ” — as they came to the 
turn of the road. 

“ Down there, through the iron gate.” 

“ Is it his home, — and yours ? ” 


96 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


“ Yes.” 

“ Then I ’ll give him his head ; ” and dropping 
the bridle-rein upon his shoulders, Steenie folded 
her arms while Kinks trotted more and more 
slowly over the gravel road, till he stopped, of 
his own accord, before the block where he was 
accustomed to be mounted. 

Both children were speedily off upon the 
ground, and Steenie, feeling more at home and 
happier than at any time since she had parted 
from her four-footed friends at Santa Felisa, 
began examining the various straps and buckles 
of the gray’s harness, with a professional air 
which greatly impressed the watchful Beatrice. 

“ Who saddled this poor fellow ? ” 

“I — I don’t know.” 

“ You ought to know, then ! See here ! 
There ’s a thorn in this surcingle. That ’s all 
how it happened ! ” 

“ That — little thing ? And that big horse ? ” 

The groom has ridden up by this time, and 
Steenie turned upon him swiftly. “ See here, 
man ! I found this in the band ! ” 

“ Well. What of it?” 

“ That ’s what made him act up.” 

“ That is too small to have been felt.” 

“I think not. See?” The child struck the 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 97 

brier sharply into the flesh of her own brown 
little hand, and a red flush followed the wound. 
“ That has hurt him ever since he went out. Bob 
says nothing ’s so sensitive as a horse ; and then 
something frightened him ; and then he — ran 
away. So would I, — if anything kept doing 
this all the time ! ” And again she attacked her 
own skin, — now so energetically that the blood 
oozed out ; at which she turned and clasped the 
soft nostrils of the thorough-bred before her with 
a tender pitying touch, and laid her own bonny 
face caressingly against the face of the beast, 
who stood in motionless enjoyment of this new 
sympathy. 

Nobody knew that a fourth person had ob- 
served this scene till a grave voice quietly asked : 
“ Little girl, who are you ? ” 

Then the curly head was reluctantly lifted 
from its resting-place, and a pair of radiant eyes 
were raised toward the porch where the ques- 
tioner stood. “ I ’m only Steenie Calthorp.” 

“ Only — the most wonderful child I ever 
saw ! Where did you come from ? ” 

“ Santa Felisa, California/’ 

“ What are you doing here ? ” 

Memory returned to her. What, indeed, was 
she doing there, when she had been told by 

7 


98 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

her grandmother that she must be ready in 
iust half-an-hour to “go and buy some decent 
clothes ” ! 

“ Caramba ! I forgot ! ” And away flashed 
a white frock and a streaming mass of curly 
hair, without so much as a good-by to any of 
these new acquaintances. 


CHAPTER VII. 


TEENIE had little 
difficulty in re- 
tracing her way 
along the avenue 
as far as that old 
street of the 
i town on which 
her grand- 
mother’s house 
stood; but 
there she 
stopped, con- 
fused. 


“ It was a 
big white house 
with a lion on 
it.” Alas! they were all big white houses in that 
locality, and more than one had a “ lion on it.” 

“ There is a white fence before it, and green 
blinds.” 

So were there everywhere, — for this staid, 
aristocratic, inland borough was nothing if not 



STEENIE AND HER GRANDMOTHER. 


100 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

correct. Years and years before, when it was 
young, its then leader of society had builded him 
a “ mansion,” standing so many paces back 
from the street, of such a width and stature. 
He had placed about the yard a protecting pal- 
ing, white, — to match the house ; with its green 
blinds which did not match the grass, but stared 
at it in a hardness of tone, so utterly green, that 
it made nature's color look yellow, — maybe from 
envy. 

The example set in that far-away time con- 
tinued still. To the one big square white house 
succeeded other big, square, white houses, as like 
to the pattern as rule and measure could make 
them ; to the ugly green blinds other rows of 
ugly green blinds ; while the original paling 
stretched out far, far on either side. 

Thus the great High Street of Old Knollsboro 
began and grew ; and now was far too loyal to 
its past to alter its own cleanly and roomy 
monotony for any modern freaks of architecture. 

It was on this thoroughfare that a strange 
little girl, who had never been lost on the wide 
plains of Santa Felisa, now stood looking about 
in awe-stricken perplexity. She began, also, 
to feel physically very miserable. Clouds had 
obscured the sun, and the wind had risen chilly, 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 101 

blowing through her light attire with a piercing 
breath new to her experience, and most unplea- 
sant. Her shoes were water-soaked, and her feet 
stiff with the cold ; and such a terrible forlornness 
suddenly overcame her that she felt very much 
like crying. 

“ But if I cry I can’t see anything, then ! ” 
said this practical small creature, and forthwith 
restrained her tears. 66 Well, it must be further ’n 
this, anyhow; an’ if I go on, maybe I’ll see a 
Maltese cat. Mary Jane says her cat is pure 
Malty ; and so — Ho ! There she goes ! ” 

Thinking wholly of the animal which was to 
be her guide, Steenie pursued a fleeing object 
that she believed to be Mary Jane’s possession ; 
but she was disappointed at the very gateway of 
successful capture, beneath which the cat darted 
and through which the child would have followed 
but for the latch ; about this her observant eye 
detected a radical difference from that of Madam 
Calthorp’s. 

“ Hm-m, Miss Cat ! You ’ve run away again, 
I s’pose. Mary Jane says you are always run- 
ning away an' 4 pestering the life out of her.’ 
An’, maybe, you ’re like me, — don’t know where 
you do b’long. Never mind. I guess you ’ll 
find your way home again ; so I ’ll go on.” 


102 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Steenie was so oddly and thinly clothed for 
that season and climate that some curious eyes 
looked after her sturdy little figure, as she passed 
swiftly up the street, darting questioning glances 
at every residence ; but nobody thought of offer- 
ing guidance. For was n’t Old Knollsboro in 
morning attire ? Besides, open curiosity con- 
cerning one’s neighbors was a common thing, and 
belonged to the vulgar crowd which did not 
inhabit High Street. So she made the full length 
of one side the roadway and had crossed to re- 
turn upon the other, when she spied in the dis- 
tance a bent, blue-coated old man, whom she 
recognized at once. 

“ It ’s Mr. Tubbs ! It truly is ! Hurrah ! ” she 
cried, with a delight quite contrasting to the 
terror this same person had caused her earlier in 
the day. Then she sped forward till she had 
overtaken and thrown herself upon her victim’s 
shoulders, who rebounded from the shock of the 
attack with a groan horrible to hear, but which 
no longer daunted the glad child. “ Oh, you 
dear Mr. Resolved ! Here you were, looking for 
me, and all the time I was — ” 

“ Was n’t lookin’ fer ye ’t all! Oh, oh! Be 
ye born ter murder me outright, er be ye not ? 
Um-m ! That ’s what I ’d like ter know.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 103 

“ Murder you ? Why, you must be funny ! 
How, why should a little girl murder anybody ? ” 
“ My-soul-I-declare ! But you seem boun’ ter ! 
An’ in the name o’ common sense, what be ye doin’ 
out here with no clothes on ter speak of ? Where ’s 
yer bunnit er yer shawl ? ” 

Shawl ! Steenie had never thought of it from 
the moment when she took it off and laid it on 
the fence. The fence ! What fence ? Where ? 
All up and down those two long rows of palings 
which faded into an indistinct line and seemed to 
melt together in the distance, the child’s eyes 
searched critically. But there was nothing in 
sight to suggest the shawl, which had been only 
loaned by Madam Calthorp, and Steenie’s fear 
took a new direction. What if it were lost ? 
— as she had been, and the Maltese cat. 

She had been trained to a very nice observance 
of “ thine ” and “ mine ; ” and even at Santa Felisa, 
where she was so universally loved and indulged, 
she had never mislaid or used anything belonging 
to another without permission. How dreadful to 
begin now with something owned by that stern, 
beautiful grandmother whom she already loved 
so dearly, yet who seemed too “ intelligy ” to re- 
turn such a simple sentiment ! 

“ Which is my grandmother’s house, Mr. Re- 


104 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

solved ? Please, will you show me ? — even if you 
were n’t sent after me.” 

“ Sent arter ye ! Humph ! Psst-t ! I’d like 
ter see myself bein’ sent arter younguns, at my 
time o’ life ! ” 

“ Where, please ? Quick ! ” 

For answer the old man pushed his spectacles 
into their legitimate place and looked at the ques- 
tioner searchingly. “ Well, I hate ter own it, but 
I s’pose I ’ll have ter. I ’lowed ter Mary Jane 
fust off, ’t ye did n’t seem like common younguns ; 
an’ then that fool kind o’ talk this mornin’ ; an’ 
now, a losin’ of yerself in a plain straight road 
like this. It ’s a pity, — it ’s a terr’ble pity.” 

“ Of course it is. But don’t you see ? I did it 
just because it is so plain. I w T as never outside 
my grandmother’s house before, only when we 
came. And I was so tired I did n’t notice ; an’ 
these rows and rows look just like a flock of 
sheep, each more the same than the other ; and 
if you won’t tell me ” — A fit of shivering cut 
short her remarks. 

“ Gracious ! You ain’t a ketchin’ cold, be ye ? 
A’ready ? This way, then, suddent ! Er there 
ye ’ll be ter be nussed.” With which humble 
imitation- of his mistress’ sentiments, Mr. Tubbs 
faced about, and seizing Steenie’s cold little hand, 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 105 

hurried back to their own domicile as fast as age 
and lumbago would permit. 

“ Now, look a here. Take a notice. Ye may n’t 
be bright, but ye can Tarn sun thin’, an’ I ’m boun’ 
ter teach ye. That gate-latch has a round quirl 
on the top. See ? an’ there hain’t another gate- 
latch has a nothin’ but a square quirl the hull 
endurin’ length o’ High Street. Do ye under- 
stan’ w T hat I’m a-sayin’?” 

“ Why, yes, certainly. Why should n’t I ? ” 
laughed Steenie, forgetting her fear of her guide 
in gratitude for his “ kindness ” in returning her 
to her friends, and wondering why he thought 
her so slow of comprehension. But no sooner 
was the “ round quirled” latch lifted than she 
darted past him and in at the front door, which, 
for an unusual thing, stood wide open. 

“ Papa ! Grandmother ! Where are you ? I ’m 
so glad — I’m sorry — I lost it — I was lost, too, 
and he ’s — the loveliest great gray — Papa ! 
Papa Cal thorp ! ” 

Her father emerged from the library, looking 
very pale and careworn ; but she sprang into his 
arms with such exuberant delight that a smile 
rose to his lips. Then he clasped her close, — 
closer than she had ever known him to do, and 
his cheek felt the chill of hers. “ Why, sweet- 


106 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

heart, how cold you are ! Where have you 
been ? ” 

“ Did n’t you hear, Papa, dear ? I said I had 
been lost.” 

Very speedily thereafter Steenie found herself 
in bed. She did n't quite comprehend it, and it 
certainly was her first experience of going into 
such retirement in the daytime ; but one glance 
at the child’s wet feet and shivering body had 
alarmed Madam greatly. 

“ Right out of that warm climate into this, 
and clad as she is ! This way, Steenie, at once. 
Oh, your shoes ! The tracks on the carpet ! ” 

“ Here, darling, I ’ll carry you ; ” and as directly 
as if his eyes could see, Mr. Calthorp bore his lit- 
tle girl to her own room and himself assisted in 
tucking her into the thick blankets, while Mary 
Jane fussed about with hot bricks and soap- 
stones, and Madam Calthorp administered a dose 
of sage-tea, whose aroma carried the father back 
to the days of his own childhood. 

When the excitement had somewhat subsided, 
and Steenie had assured them over and over that 
she was as “ warm as a pepper-stew,” the house- 
mistress sat down to listen to the tale which her 
grandchild had, until then, vainly endeavored 
to tell. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 107 

“ First, I ’m so sorry about your shawl. I took 
it off, ’cause it was so warm ; an’ I don’t know 
where the place was. The fence is just the same, 
and — ” 

“ Never mind the shawl, Steenie ; it is certain 
to be returned. Somebody will find and recog- 
nize it ; but wdiat is that about a horse ? ” 

Holding fast to her father’s hand, Steenie gave 
a graphic description of the runaway, and its re- 
sult. When she had finished, Madam sat in 
a silence which was plainly that of a shocked 
dismay. Finally she spoke. 

“ This is even worse than I feared. No such 
accident must occur again. Steenie, before an- 
other word is said, promise me that you will not 
go into the street again without permission.” 

“ No, no, Mother ! ” interposed Mr. Cal thorp, 
earnestly. “ Pardon my disputing your author- 
ity, but that will not answer. Steenie has never 
known restraint, and — but let us settle all this 
at some other time.” 

The lady sighed. She had her own ideas of how 
a little girl should be brought up ; but she felt 
her old hands inadequate to the task. She had 
been so peaceful and free ! Why had this trial 
been sent upon her ? Gravely she arose and left 
the room, and the relieved runaway went to sleep, 


108 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

to wake at the dinner hour with no worse feel- 
ing about her than rebellion against being kept 
in bed when there was “ nothing the matter that 
ever was.” 

The immediate result of that morning’s adven- 
ture, so far as Steenie was concerned, was a suit- 
able wardrobe. A dressmaker took up her abode 
in the west chamber, and there the restless child 
was imprisoned during a fortnight of bright days, 
while birds sang invitations to her through the 
windows, and the crocuses coaxed her with their 
shining faces to “come out of doors and be 
glad ! ” 

But the only time she could command for that 
was after the crocuses and the birds had gone to 
sleep, and the dressmaker had stopped work for 
the day. 

“ Why do I need so many things, dear grand- 
mother ? I’m sure they ’re pretty ; but — ” 

“ Many, Steenie ? I have never been an ex- 
travagant woman, and I certainly shall not cul- 
tivate the habit now. But there must be two 
comfortable school-frocks and three or four thin- 
ner ones ; for I wish everything to be accom- 
plished at once that will be required during the 
summer. There must be a simple dress for church 
and a richer one for visiting ; and — that is all. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 109 

I ’m sure you are the first little girl I ever knew 
who did n’t like handsome clothes.” 

“ Oh, you have n’t known even me — that 
way! For I like the frocks well enough, but not 
the fixing of them. I stand up, ‘ being fitted,’ 
till my feet ache like anything ; and Miss Ses- 
sions’ knuckles have punched me all over black 
and blue. She does n’t mean it, of course ; but 
when she puts in a pin she jams against me like 
I was her lap-board. And 1 wish needles had n’t 
eyes ! ’Cause I ’most put mine out threading ’em.” 

“ Why, Steenie ! I thought you were a con- 
tented child ! I have never heard you complain 
of anything before.” 

“ Have n’t you ? Am I complaining ? But 
— it ’s — it ’s — awfully, awfully lonesome ! I 
wish Papa would come back ! I can’t sleep 
nights for wondering about his poor eyes ; and 
how long it will take the man to fix ’em. ” 

“ There, there ! That will do. Don’t allow 
yourself to give way to habits of despondency. 
Your father expected to be gone for two weeks, 
and he has been for but for ten days. Maybe, if you 
go down into the kitchen, you can see Mary Jane 
get supper.” 

“ Yes’m,” said Steenie, choking back her emo- 
tion, and turning toward the stairs, whence, 


110 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

seeing her grandmother stoop to pick up a thread 
from the carpet, she ran to save her the trouble, 
and ended by throwing her arms about the silk- 
clad shoulders and giving them a hearty squeeze. 
“ Oh ! I do love you so, Grandmother ! ” 

“Why, Steenie? Because of the new frocks 
and pretty jackets ? ” 

“ Grandmother ! How funny ! ’Cause of 
nothing at all only — ’cause ! ” 

At which senseless reason the giver of it 
smiled merrily, and the recipient smiled almost 
indulgently. 

“ Well, run now ! To-morrow you will be at 
school, and a new life will begin for you.” 

“ How ? Am I not living now ? ” 

“ In one way, yes. But there is a world of 
books to which your school training will open the 
door. To me, that world is everything, or 
was. I find — some other things — begin to 
interest me now.” 

“ What things, Grandmother ? ” 

“ No matter, little questioner ; but things 
utterly different from any printed page.” When 
Madam Calthorp said anything that Steenie did 
not understand, the latter readily attributed it to 
the lady’s great “ intelligence,” which she had 
now learned to call by its right name. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. Ill 

But, somehow, that little talk had set both 
old and young hearts to lighter beating ; and 
Steenie departed kitchen-ward, feeling that 
“ watching Mary Jane ” was something interest- 
ing, even if it could not quite equal a race on the 
sands with Tito. 

But of that beloved animal she dared not 
think often. It was apt to make a troublesome 
“ ache ” come “ in her throat/’ and it “ did n’t do 
any good.” 

On the following morning, feeling very curious 
and happy, Steenie entered the primary depart- 
ment of the great school for which Old Knolls- 
boro was famous. She did not know that girls 
“ going on eleven ” usually disdained “ prima- 
ries ” as far beneath them, and she would n’t 
have cared if she had ; but, at the first recess, 
she was enlightened on the subject by a young 
miss in braids, who remarked, patronizingly, 
“ Oh, you ’re the new girl, are n’t you ? ” 

“ I ’m not new, — not very. 1 ’m over ten.” 

“ What ? I don’t mean new that way. You 
just came.” 

“ No. I have been here ever so long. Grand- 
mother says ’bout three weeks.” 

“ Don’t you feel mad to go with the little 
ones?” 


112 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“No. I think I like little ones best. I never 
saw any ’bout my size ’cept Beatrice, and — and 
— you,” concluded Steenie, stammering in her 
confusion over saying something that even to 
her untrained ears sounded “ not just right.” 

“My! Aren’t you polite! Well, what can 
you expect, my mother says, of a girl that ’s 
lived in California amongst cow-boys.” 

“ Cow-boys are nicer — nicer than — nice ! I 
love them, every one ! ” cried this loyal Santa 
Felisan. 

“ You’d ought to be ashamed ! ” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ Oh, because. Say, has Beatrice Courtenay 
been to see you ? ” 

“Yes. Once.” 

“ You thought you did something smart, did n’t 
you ? Ma said it was disgraceful for a girl to 
get talked about like you have been.” 

Steenie stared in amazement, then bethought 
herself of her grandmother’s parting advice : “ Be 
pleasant to all, as is natural to you ; but do not 
have much to say to any girl until you have 
learned her name. I wish you to make only the 
right friends, and I can tell you about all the 
families — if not all the children — in town. It 
is wise to select your playmates from households 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 113 

of gentlewomen. ‘ Even a child is known by the 
cornpai^ he keeps.’ ” 

“ Will you please tell me your name, miss 
girl?” 

“ It ’s Annie Gibson. My father keeps a candy 
store.” 

“Does he? Why does that bell ring ? Isn’t 
the lady pretty who teaches me ? She thinks I 
read very well indeed, for — for — me.” 

“ Pooh ! You ’d ought to hear me ! I ’in in 
the Fifth Reader. I speak pieces, examination 
days. Your dress is awful nice and stylish. I 
bet you did n’t have that made in your old Cali- 
fornia. I bet your grandmother had to give it to 
you.” 

“ Annie, you should n’t say ‘ I bet.’ Grand- 
mother erected me, myself, for doing it. My 
grandmother is a very in-tell-i-gent woman, my 
father says, an’ I ’m to watch out for the way 
she talks ; ’cause she never says anything ’nele- 
gant. But I think your frock is pretty, too. It’s 
redder ’n mine, an’ more ruffley, is n’t it ? I 
think you are very nice to look at. Your eyes 
are black, are n’t they ? And your hair is nice 
an’ straight. An’ what beautiful big feet you 
have, an’ hands ! Why, your hands are a,’ most 
twice as big ’s mine ! ” 


8 


114 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Poor Annie Gibson did n’t know whether to 
laugh or “ get mad ; ” but there was no doubting 
the sincere and admiring curiosity with which 
Steenie Calthorp examined this other specimen 
of girlhood ; but the final tones of the bell called 
both away toward the house. 

Which, however, Steenie did not enter. Her 
attention had suddenly been attracted by a com- 
motion in the street, and everything new 
appealed to her curiosity. 

“ My ! I wonder what those boys are doing ! 
What — What — What!” 

With a shriek of delight that penetrated the 
building she was deserting, the child darted from 
the enclosure, — through the crowd of grinning 
boys straight to the cause of all their mirth. 
“ My Sutro ! My Sutro ! My own, ownest 
Tito ! ” 

“ Caramba ! My angel ! Is it thou ? At 
last — at last ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 




] UTRO and Tito, 
indeed ! 

The former 
in the full glory 
of his holiday 
Mexican costume, looking a 
little the worse for a long 
journey ; the latter in ex- 
uberant spirits over his re- 
lease from the car which he 
had occupied for nearly a 
week, padded and luxurious 
though it had been. The ex- 
travagant caresses of one old 
friend, and the pleading, loving neighings of the 
other, were met by an ecstatic response, which 
told how greatly they had been missed. 

“ Oh ! How — Why — I’m so glad I shall — 


STEENIE AND TITO. 


cry!” 

“ Santa Maria ! We part no more, mi nina 
[my little one].” 


116 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ But how could you come ? You darlings ! ” 

44 How ? Save on that horrible railway train, 
de veras , indeed ! But thy Tito suffered not at 
all, he. Bob and the boys sent him to thee, their 
Little Un ; for, in verity, he was of no use to the 
Lord of Plunkett, no. Not a saddle nor a bridle 
would he endure, until to-day. And so — goes 
thy Bob to the senor and says : 4 The Little Un’s 
horse travels east to the Little Un, with old 
Sutro, who will not live at San’ Felisa without 
his heart’s dearest.’ And — here we are. Car- 
arnba! Thou lookest fine, no? But — still — 
thou wilt return with Sutro to the old hacienda , 
wilt thou not, mahana [to-morrow, sometime] ? ” 

44 The very first mahana that ever I can ! 
But, go away, you boys ! What do you want 
with us ? ” 

44 A circus ! A circus ! ” cried the gamins, 
delighted at seeing Steenie now mounted behind 
the old Spaniard, whose striking apparel re- 
minded them of nothing but the fascinating 
entertainment just mentioned. 

44 It ’s that horse girl ! ” 

44 It ’s her that rode Beatrice Courtenay’s 
runaway ! ” 

44 1 ’ll bet all my alleys she does b’long to a 
circus, an’ that ’s another of ’em ! ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 117 

“ Say, Sissy, what show you skedaddle out 
of ? Give us the tip ! ” 

“ The tip, no ? The whole of it, you miser- 
ables ! ” Suiting the action to the word, Sutro 
leaned sidewise from the saddle, and laid about 
him hastily with his short riding-whip. This 
had the effect of ridding them from immediate 
persecution, and, taking advantage of this lull in 
the attentions of the street boys, Steenie gave 
Tito his word of command, and away they shot 
at a pace to distance all pursuers. 

Madam Calthorp looked up from her book as 
the clattering of horse-hoofs fell on the gravel of 
the path which led to her disused stable, and 
could scarcely believe her own eyes for the story 
they told her. 

She was still trembling from the shock of her 
surprise when Steenie bounded into her presence, 
wild with excitement and radiantly glad. “ 0, 
Grandmother — Grandmother ! Who do you 
think has come ? Tito — Tito — Tito ! My own 
Tito ! And that blessed old Sutro, who is as 
old as old, but did n’t mind anything but stay- 
ing away from his nina ! Come — come — quick 
— and see them ! ” 

She could not stand still, not one instant ; but 
around and around her grandmother’s chair she 


118 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

danced, while that lady slowly rose, wondering 
at herself for even this concession. 

“ This way ! This way ! To the — I s’pose it ’s 
the stable ! And won’t Tito be glad to get into a 
quiet stall once more ? And the grass ! Can he 
roll on the cunning little lawn, Grandmother ? ” 

“ Steenie, silence. Be still for one moment. 
What is all this ? Who is ‘ Tito,’ who ‘ Sutro ’ ? 
Why are you not at school ? ” 

“ Why — why — I don’t know. I s’pose I for- 
got. Sutro — is Sutro. Don’t you know I told 
you ’bout him ? He ’s my body-servant, and as 
old as anything. But such a rider ! There ’s 
nobody in all San’ Felisa can beat him, ’cept 
Kentucky Bob an’ some more. Bless his heart ! 
Bob’s, I mean. Bless everybody’s ! For he ’s 
come all these long three thousand miles to bring 
me my pretty piebald Tito. The Plunketty Lord 
said he should always be mine, case I ever went 
back ; but those dear boys would n’t wait for 
that — no ! I s’pose they saw that Tito was 
breaking his heart and s’posed I was mine ; and 
so they paid all the money for Tito’s ticket, 
and hired him a beautiful cushioned horse- 
box, and sent Sutro to take care of him till 
he brought him safe to me. And — and — he ’s 
— they ’re never going away any more till I go, 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 119 

too. Oh, kola , kola ! Are n’t you glad — glad 
— glad .?” 

If she were glad she did not so express herself ; 
nor did Madam Calthorp’s countenance exhibit 
any emotion brighter than dismayed astonish- 
ment as she followed this strange child out of 
the room and out of the house, in order to be 
presented to two more intruders. 

“ Sutro, Caballero Don Sutro Vives, this is my 
beautiful Madam Grandmother. And Tito — my 
sweet ! ” 

“ I have the honor to kiss thy feet, Sehora,” 
said the old Spaniard, bowing profoundly. 

For a moment Madam regarded him with ad- 
miring curiosity. As a “ type ” of that race which 
she had read of in history, a race that was fast 
dying out, he interested her, and for that reason 
she was glad to see him ; and the caballero, 
lifting his eyes from the ground, beheld only the 
pleasure, and did not question its cause. “ The 
Doha Steenie says truly, Madam ; the Sehora is 
beautiful, — as the snows on the Sierras. May 
the humblest of her slaves beg her gracious 
favor ? ” 

Such language was new to Old Knollsboro, 
though to Steenie’s ears it was as familiar and as 
meaningless as the ordinary salutations of the 


120 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

day to other folk ; and she interrupted any reply 
which Madam might have made by seizing that 
lady’s hand and placing it on Tito’s flowing mane. 
“ Is n’t it fine and white, — whiter and softer 
than the freshest fleece ever sheared ? And see 
the pretty, pretty markings all over his body ! 
Lift your foot, my Tito. One — two — three — 
four ! One — two — three — four ! Is n’t that 
a fine action ? And his haunches ! See how 
strong and shapely. And his lovely tail, set 
straight and free ! And his darling neck ! Oh, 
my Tito, I love you ! I love you ! ” 

Madam Cal thorp was speechless. Not only 
was she amazed, but she was touched. She had 
never seen anything like this. It was as if a 
twin had found its mate ; and the exchange of 
sentiment between the two young creatures was 
too evident for even her untrained eyes to ignore. 
Steenie was not one whit more glad than Tito ; 
nor did she express her emotion more clearly. 
The animal’s velvet nostrils moved everywhere 
about the curly head and bobbing shoulders of 
his recovered mistress, with an exquisite gentle- 
ness of touch she could not have believed possible 
in “only a horse.” There was adoring delight 
in the great brown eyes which followed Steenie’s 
every motion, and seemed blind to all else ; and 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 121 

when Sutro had unfastened the stable door, the 
loving pair went joyfully away together, her arm 
about his neck, bent proudly to receive it. 

“ My-soul-I-declare ! ” 

This ejaculation, in the harshest utterance of Mr. 
Resolved Tubbs, broke in upon this pretty scene 
with the force of an explosion. It cleared the 
air of undue sentiment, and recalled Madam Cal- 
thorp to a sense of her position and its conse- 
quences. Here she had not only received these 
unwelcome intruders, but allowed them to believe 
that she was glad to do so ! She must right the 
mistake at once. 

“ Ahem, Mr. Sutro, I mean Vives, I think it 
would be better to take that animal directly to 
the livery stable. I do not keep a horse, and 
should not be willing to let Steenie. As for your- 
self, while your devotion is touching, I think you 
can find more comfortable quarters at the village 
than I can give you. This man — Tubbs, will 
you show this old gentleman the way to the 
American House ? ” 

Considering the lumbago, Mr. Tubbs stepped 
forward with amazing alacrity. He was quite 
willing to prevent his small “ world ” being 
“ turned upside down ” by this fresh consignment 
from the far west. But his obliging readiness 


122 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

fell powerless before the Caballero’s obtuse se- 
renity. 

“ Ten thousand pardons, most charming Senora, 
but whatever will serve my hostess serves me. 
Old Sutro is not particular.” 

“But — gracious ! ” retorted Kesolved, and be- 
gan an explanation which was cut short by Stee- 
nie’s reappearance with the request : “ Please get 
me some alfalfa, or oats, or something for my 
Tito’s dinner ; will you, Mr. Tubbs ? ” 

“ Steenie, there is nothing for a horse to eat 
here. I have not kept one in many years. The 
last one was your father’s, before he left home. 
This animal must be taken elsewhere for the 
present.” 

“ Grandmother ! My Tito ? After so long, 
long a journey ? Oh, no, no, no ! ” 

“ But, my child, be reasonable. The stable 
is — ” 

“ ’Xcuse my interrupting, but it ’s just as nice 
as nice. They ’s a lovely box-stall, only wants 
taking those old rubbishy things out of it ; an’ 
places for everything. We can go to the shop 
where you buy things for horses, and buy him 
all he needs. Same ’s you bought my clothes. 
An’ then such fun! Won’t Papa be glad! And 
Sutro- — forgive me not thinking ’bout you, too. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 123 

Are you hungry, dear Sutro ? You ’re ’most 
always, don’t you know ? ” 

“ Ah, Senorita ! The food on the way was 
not of Ellen’s sort. In verity, I would like a 
dish of — ” 

“ A’ most anything, no? Grandmother, may 
Mary Jane cook Sutro some dinner ? ” 

“ Hm. It must be near the dinner-hour for 
all of us ; and you may invite your old friend for 
this one meal.” The significance of the lady’s 
tone was not lost upon her ancient servitor, Re- 
solved, but it was — wholly — upon the happy 
unconsciousness of these two reunited comrades, 
whom Madam Calthorp watched with growing 
interest ; even herself forgetting, as Steenie had 
utterly forgotten, that there was such a thing as 
school and its duties. 

“ She is a different creature ! Vivacious, spark- 
ling, charming. And all for that queer old man 
and queerer horse ! Is it as my son has thought 
and said, — that the key to the child’s nature is 
love, — overflowing love? Well, there is, cer- 
tainly, no mistaking the love between those two 
nor the want of it between these — two ! ” con- 
sidered the unwilling hostess, turning her eyes upon 
the two old men, as Sutro and Resolved glared with 
instant and mutual dislike upon each other. 


124 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Can it be possible that Tubbs is actually grow- 
ing fond of the child, and is jealous ? ” 

It seemed so, strange as it was ; for when 
dinner was served, and Sutro, naturally, took his 
place behind Steenie’s chair, the other ancient 
worthy remarked with considerable sharpness : 
“ Ye kin set down, can’t ye ? ” and pointedly 
pushed a chair back to designate where. 

“ Ten thousand thanks, my friend ; when the 
Senorita has finished,” answered Sutro, suavely. 

“ Sin-your-eet-her, hey ? What heathen gibber- 
ish is that, I ’d like ter know ? Thar ’s yer place, 
an’ thar ye kin set er go ’ithout, — uther one,” 
retorted Tubbs, forgetting in his aversion to this 
“ furriner ” the respect due to the occasion. 

“ Luego [presently].” With the sweetest of 
smiles, old Yives, who had been watching Re- 
solved’s manner of service, deftly turned his 
little lady’s plate, exactly as the other had done 
Madam Calthorp’s. 

When Mr. Tubbs passed to his mistress the 
food which Mary Jane had carved, the stranger 
anticipated a similar attention to Steenie. So 
with everything ; till even the house-mistress’s 
dignity yielded to a smile, and the little girl 
laughed outright. 

“ Why, you two funny men ! What makes 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 125 

you go snap — snap — with things, so ? And 
poor Mr. Resolved, if it ’s your lumbago worse, 
just let Sutro take care of Grandmother, too. 
My Sutro can do everything beau-u-tifully ; can’t 
you, dear ? ” 

“ Si ? It is music thou speakest, carita .” 

“T-wu-ho!” With this indescribable snort 
Mr. Tubbs retreated to the kitchen and threw 
himself down recklessly in Mary jinn’s own 
rocker. But the rocker was cushioned, and Re- 
solved was tired ; and the combination revealed 
the fact that even an enemy has his uses. “ My- 
soul-I-declare ! If he wants ter trot round 
waitin’ on younguns, let him trot! Ain’t no 
law ag’in it, as I know of.” 

“Ner ag’in your behavin’ like a great, cross 
youngun yerself, if I do say so ! ” said Mary 
Jane, dishing apple-fritters with a skilful hand. 

“ Ain’t cross. An’ if I be, ain’t it enough ter 
make a critter a’most sw’ar ? Here was we livin’ 
like pigs in clover ; and in come Mr. Daniel an’ 
the gal. Now, ’s if that wa’n’t upsettin’ enough 
— piles in a heathen Mexican an’ a calico horse 
ter boot ! I do say, an’ I mean it, folks does some- 
times get more o’ trouble ’n they desarve in this 
world.” 

“ Calico horses is lucky. Hain’t you never 


126 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

heerd that ? I always wish when I see one, an’ 
that ain’t often. An’, though it does make a 
pile o’ work, I — no, sir ! — I ain’t a mite sorry ’t 
Mr. Dan’l an’ Steenie come ! ” 

“ Ma-ry-Ja-ne ! ” Tubbs half rose from his 
chair, in astonishment at his sister’s words. 
“ An’ you — a perfessor ! ” 

“Perfessor from my youth up,” assented the 
spinster, piously. “ That ’s why it ’s borne in on 
me ter witness fer the truth. I hated it — Here ! 
you Mr. Sutry ! Jest fetch all them things out, 
fust. Don’t leave anything on the table, savin’ the 
bread an’ the salt. And — there ye be ! Handy 
as a womern, I do declare ! — Yes, sir, I hated it 
wuss ’n pisen. So ’t I could n’t sleep, worryin’ 
’bout the victuals ter cook an’ the dishes ter wash, 
. an’ the hull job. An’ I knowed Madam hated it 
even wusser. But now — mebbe it ’s grace ’at ’s 
’gin me, an’ mebbe it ’s only natur’ ; but that 
little creetur has ’bout changed the hull outlook 
o’ things. She jest acted as if I loved her the 
terr’blest ’t ever was, an’ fust I knowed — 1 did ! 
Thar was n’t no holdin’ out ag’in them big inner- 
cent eyes o’ her ’n, a smilin’ so right inter a body 
till a body can’t help smilin’ back. So — now 
I ’ve told it out, an’ I feel better. You b’lieve 
my words, brother Resolved, an’ mark ’em well : 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 127 

Thar ’s a blessin’ come with poor Mr. DanTs 
cornin’, an’ it’s took visible shape in that thar 
child ! ” 

“ Well — I swan ! ” 

“ Hm-m. Ye need n’t ‘ swan’ nothin’. Madam ’s 
through. Come along an’ eat yer dinner. An’ 
remember ter let yer candle burn afore that poor, 
yaller-skinned, heathen stranger, who, if he hain’t 
got the grace o’ perfessorship has got it o’ 
perliteness.” 

Thus adjured, “ professor ” Tubbs arose and 
followed Mary Jane into the dining-room, where 
Sutro had already seated himself in the chair 
designated by his new confrere , and was smil- 
ing blandly kitchen-wards, when that person’s 
bent figure darkened the doorway. But if 
there was any spiritual light-shining or candle- 
burning, it was not of a sort to impress the 
Catholic Christian with the beauty of the Puritan 
creed. 

Alas ! It was war from the beginning with 
these two ; and, though both were inwardly 
conscious of their own blame in the matter, no 
amount of self-abusive prayers on one side or 
muttered Ave Marias on the other could ever 
change the course of nature. 

“ Water won’t run up-hill; an’ folks ’at ’s 


128 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

born contrary stays contrary. All you kin ex- 
pect is ter keep the peace,’’ said the shrewd 
Mary Jane, and determined to make a bridge of 
her own patience which should serve both sides 
of the hostile camp. 

After dinner the question of Tito again arose ; 
and, pending her son’s return, Madam compro- 
mised her own judgment and sent off an order 
for food and bedding sufficient for a few days’ 
need. “ I ’m growing very weak and indulgent,” 
she said, apologetically, to Mary Jane. “ But 
this arrival was so unexpected, it may be as well 
to await Daniel's decision.” 

“Yes’m. An’ I do ’low you won’t be sorry. 
She don’t ask ner tease fer nothin’ ; hain’t never 
sence she come. ’Bout them books, even ; I ’ve 
seen her a marchin’ back an’ forth, back an’ 
forth, a lookin’ through the glass at ’em that 
longin’ ’at I ’ve be’n a’most a mind ter open the 
bookcases an’ show ’em to her. But, o’ course, I 
did n’t ; an’ she did n’t say ary word, ner even 
look mad, only kinder hungry-like. ’T would be 
a pity not ter let her have her pony, seems ter 
me. Mr. Sntry, he says she kin beat any circuser 
’t ever was. She ’s rid’ ever sence she was a 
baby; an’ them men out ter Californy — ‘boys,’ 
she calls ’em — ’d a never let her come east in 


TEtE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 129 

the world if it had n’t a be’n fer her pa’s eyes. 
When ’s he cornin’ home, Ma’am ? ” 

“ Soon, I hope. And that he will be reassured 
concerning his dreaded blindness. It cannot be 
that a Calthorp — such a strong, healthy, hand- 
some man he is, Mary Jane — should suffer such 
a physical blemish ! ” 

In that sentence spoke one of Madam Cal- 
thorp’s strongest prejudices. Against imperfec- 
tion of any sort her proud heart rebelled. Her 
own physique was faultless. She wore her years 
and her white hairs as royally as a queen her 
ermine mantle. She had always prayed that she 
might die thus, in her full vigor, before any 
mortal weakness touched her ; and her feeling of 
this sort extended to all belonging to her. If 
her son died, she would mourn him ; but if he 
lived, a helpless wreck, she dared not contem- 
plate the prospect. 

“ No, it don’t ’pear so ; but the ‘ don’t ’pear 
so-s ’ are gen’ally what happens ; an’ though I 
hate ter say it, I think you ’d oughter know that 
Mr. Dan’l went away a’most convicted in his 
own mind ’at he would n’t never see no more o’ 
this mortal speer ’an he saw then.” 

“ Mary Jane ! But you are not always a true 
prophet.” 


9 


130 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ An’ I hope, with all that ’s in me, ’at I ain’t 
now ! ” 

But — she was. An attendant brought Daniel 
Calthorp home that night ; and the first glance 
which his mother cast upon his face disclosed 
that his last hope of restored sight had gone out 
from it. 


CHAPTER IX. 



1 H E R E was no 
evading the fact 
that a terrible 
misfortune had 
fallen upon the 
Calthorp household ; 
and, for a time, this 
great sorrow ex- 
cluded every other thought. 

But they were all brave- 
hearted, having that one 
quality in common ; and so, 
even while suffering most acutely, Madam found 
that the feeling she had experienced in regard 
to her son’s blindness faded in the light of the 
great pity which now filled her soul. She had 
feared that she could never bear to look upon 
him and witness his helplessness ; but, instead of 
this being the case, she found herself watching 
him in silent admiration for the fortitude he dis- 
played, and growing even prouder than before. 


132 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“Well. Blind or seeing, he is still — a man! 
Able to support his own courage, and that of 
those who lean upon him ! And how beautiful 
is Steenie’s tenderness ! She seems to under- 
stand that he wishes to do everything for himself 
which he can do ; but her own bright eyes watch 
constantly to aid him in those he cannot.” 

Mary Jane, observing her mistress’s face, and 
following the direction of her eyes, smiled, well 
pleased. Then she stole away to remark to 
Resolved : “ You said we might ’bout as well gin 
up, when Mr. Dan’l come home that night an’ laid 
his goggles off, ’cause they was n’t no more use a 
pertectin’ stun blindness no longer ; but — they ’s 
some kinds o’ onseeingness wuss ’n ever added 
mortal eyes. An’ that ’s sperritooal. Thar was 
Madam, a nussin’ up wrath ag’in the day o’ jedg- 
ment, jest ’cause her only had married somebody 
’t she had n’t picked out fer him ; an’ him a charm’ 
out ter Cal if or ny with his wife, an’ a bury in’ her 
thar ; an’ a cornin’ back home this way he is. But 
I tell ye, brother Resolved, it was the plain doin’s 
of the Lord, er my name ain’t Tubbs ! ” 

“Well, mebbe. I mean — o’ course. I ain’t 
a goin’ back on my perfession ; but some folks 
has got a terr’ble gift o’ makin’ sunthin’ out o’ 
nothin’. Did n’t uset ter be yer way ter call bad 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 133 

good ; but, my-soul-I-declare ! Ain’t no makin’ 
ye out, now-a-days, ye’ve growed that weak- 
minded an’ soft-spoke. Howsomever, one thing 
ye can’t turn ner twist inter no great hilarity: 
an’ that ’s that pesky Mexicer.” 

“ I should like ter know why not ? Ain’t he jest 
like a shadder ter Mr. Dan’l ? If that poor deluded 
popist critter ain’t ’arnin’ his board an’ keep, I 
know some other folks ’at ain’t wuth their salt.” 

“ Hm-m. From the soond o’ that, I conclude ’at 
thar ’s some — o’ the ’riginal Mary Jane left, arter 
all ! ” retorted the other, and doddered away. 

It had seemed providential, indeed, that Sutro 
Vives — old fellow though he was — had come 
to them when he did. With the profound love 
which he had always felt for little Steenie, he 
now turned to Steenie’s father ; and his wonder- 
ful vitality enabled him to discharge with perfect 
ease tasks which would have fallen very heavily 
upon poor Resolved Tubbs. 

Another two weeks had passed ; and they had 
all, in a measure, become accustomed to Mr. Cal- 
thorp’s affliction, and to the coming of the “ four 
Westerners,” — as Mary Jane called the three hu- 
man visitors and the equine one, — when Steenie 
came home from school a picture of childish 
distress. 


134 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ I can’t — can’t — can’t — go to that horrid 
school ! Never no more, never ! ” with which 
exclamation she burrowed into the nest her 
father’s arms made for her, and hid her tearful 
face on his breast. 

He waited until her sobs had subsided, and 
then inquired : “ Why not, darling ? ” 

“ Because — oh, ’cause — I hate it ! Maybe 
that ’s bad, but I do. The children go ‘ buz-z, 
buz-z ’ over their books ; and it ’s hot ; and I 
can’t breathe, a’most ; and, oh, Papa, I want 
to go home ! ” 

“ My little one, I shall have to forbid your 
‘ boys ’ writing to you, if their letters make 
you homesick.” 

“ It is n’t that. It is n’t, really, truly. But — 
am I a ‘ runaway circuser,’ Papa, dear ? ” 

“ Why, no. Certainly not. Why should you 
need contradiction of such a silly charge ? ” 

“ ’Cause that ’s what they all call me — ’most 
every one. An’ they say : ‘Why won’t you give 
us a ride on your old Spot-back, Californy ! ’ 
And : ‘ She ’s the girl ’at ’s only in the Primary ! 
’Cause she ’s brought up in a stable ; ’ an’ 
such heaps o’ mean things that I feel — I 
feel ’s if I should suffcate. Need I go, Papa, 
dearest ? ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 135 

“ I cannot tell yet. Let us talk it over with 
Grandmother. Rather, I will do that, and you do 
w T hat is far more to your liking and better for 
you, — wash away your tears, find Sutro, and tell 
him he may go for a horse at the livery-stable ; 
then jump on Tito’s back and ride your troubles 
away.” 

When obedience is happiness, it is always 
prompt ; but even happiness has its drawbacks. 
It was this very riding on the piebald horse 
which had excited the envy and malice of a 
few of Old Knollsboro small folks. The ma- 
jority of Steenie’s school-fellows were full of 
an unexpressed admiration for her wonderful 
horsemanship as exhibited in the — to her quiet 
— rides through the village streets ; but she was 
not the first person who has forgotten the flavor 
of the grapes in the sting of the wasp hidden 
among them, — although, heretofore, her sunny 
nature had risen above her annoyances with its 
own gay rebound. 

Now, when she had ridden out of the yard, and 
the merry tones of her farewell had satisfied her 
father’s ear that all was well for the present, 
he went “ to talk it over,” as he had promised, 
with the mother, whom he now consulted in all 
things. 


136 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“Well, Daniel, this is very strange ! It seems 
like a Providence. I have observed Steenie 
closely ; and I am sorry to say that the school 
plan has not worked as successfully as I had 
hoped. She does n’t know what is the matter ; 
but I do. It is the unwonted confinement. She 
asked Mary Jane what a prison was like; and 
when it was described, said : 4 Oh, I thought, 
maybe, it was like our school-house.’ It is 
really very opportune.” 

“ But what, Mother ? I do not understand.” 

“ This morning’s call from Mrs. Courtenay. 
She says the Judge was so pleased with Steenie, 
and that Beatrice talks so much about her, they 
beg me to allow our little girl to go to Rookwood 
every day and share their child’s instruction and 
amusement. That two such lonely only children 
can do each other a deal of good. What do you 
say ? ” 

“ Yes, with all my heart. If you approve.” 

“ It does seem an admirable arrangement. The 
Judge has always expressed bis deep obligation to 
your father for assistance when his own prospects 
were poor ; and I can understand a proud man’s 
desire to render some recognition of this ‘ claim,’ 
— though such, I am sure, I have never felt it. 
Steenie will have only the most helpful surround- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 137 

ings at Rookwood ; and she will be fully appre- 
ciated. I am glad, very glad.” 

“ Why, Mother ! Your voice sounds as if you 
— actually — loved my little one ” 

“ I do, my son.” 

“ And have you quite forgiven her likeness to 
her mother ? ” 

There was a moment’s pause. Then Daniel 
Calthorp felt his mother’s kiss upon his cheek, 
and, in that rare caress, died from both hearts 
all bitter memories. 

Mary Jane witnessed this little incident through 
a crack in the door. Alas, Mary Jame was a 
“ mortal woman ! ” Then she stole away with 
misty eyes, — misty, perhaps, from the strain of 
peeping, — murmuring piously : “ And a little 
child shall lead ’em.” 

But her piety did not prevent her being the 
first to meet Steenie on her return from the ride, 
and imparting the intelligence which was the re- 
sult of Mrs. Courtenay’s visit, instead of leaving 
that pleasant business to those whose own it 
really was. 

“ You ain’t never a goin’ back to no more 
prisony-school, at all, Steenie Calthorp ! ” 

“ Why — not? Will Papa let me stay home 
every day ? ” 


138 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ No. But trot along an’ hear. I ain’t a 
goin’ ter take the good news out o’ nobody’s 
mouth, I guess ! ” 

For once, neglecting to care for her play-fel- 
low, Tito, Steenie bounded in -doors, eager to 
have Mary Jane’s statement confirmed ; which 
being done, her pleasure knew no limits. 

“ Why, Papa Cal thorp ! It ’ll be a’ most the 
same as San’ Felisa ! They ’s a great big house, 
forty times bigger *n this, an’ a great big grass all 
round it ; an’ trees, an’ flower-beds, an’ ham- 
mocks, an’ — an’ — things ! And Sutro must 
go, too ; an’ I ’ll ride Tito. An’ sometimes, may- 
be, the Judge ’ll let me go into the fields where 
the horses are. I Ve seen them, dozens of them 
— beauties — corralled, I mean paddocked, in 
cute little places with green fences around them, 
an’ a reg’lar shed for them to go under when it 
rains. Just like some o’ the girls play ‘ house ’ 
at recess. Oh, do you s’pose he will ? ” 

“ I do not doubt it. Especially as he loves 
horses almost as well as you, and sympathy of 
tastes makes ready friendships. I foresee a very 
happy road to learning for you, my Steenie.” 

With this assurance in her ears, the child went 
gayly away on Tito’s back toward Kookwood, 
with Sutro walking beside her at a pace which 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 139 

Resolved Tubbs could never have equalled, even 
in his youth. 

“ Oh, Steenie, how glad I am ! ” cried Beatrice, 
for welcome. “ Mama says we are to have our 
lessons out of doors ; ’cause it ’s good for me, an’ 
what you ’re used to, as well.” 

“ Only I never had lessons at all, till I came to 
Old Knollsboro ! But just learned to read an’ 
write a little. An’ do you think your father will 
ever let me go to see his horses?” 

“ I b’lieve you care more for them than for 
anything ! You funny girl ! ” answered Beatrice, 
reprovingly. “ You ’re just the same as he is ; an’ 
Mama says horses are to my father what play- 
hour is to school-boys. I don’t know ’xactly what 
she means — but — he loves them, anyway.” 

“ Course he does. He couldn’t help it, could 
he?” 

“Mama can help it. She says she ’xpects 
some of us ’ll get killed ; ’specially with Diablo, 
that ’xpensive colt. He isn’t anything — yet; 
never had anything on him, even a halter ; but 
Papa says, ‘ he must be broken, if he scours the 
country to find somebody brave enough to do 
it ! ”’ 

“ Diablo ? Oh, he ’s the one ’at ’most killed 
the groom, is n’t he ? ” 


140 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE nORSE. 

“ Yes. An’ he ’s kicked a whole lot of folks. 
He \s out in his paddock all alone ; and the men 
just give him food and water, an’ let him stay 
there. Mama says that he ought to be shot, and 
then he could n’t hurt anybody else.” 

“ Why ! How dreadful ! ” 

“ What ? To hurt folks ? ” 

“ To shoot a beautiful fellow like Diablo. 
I ’ve looked at him over the fence, when I ’ve 
been riding with Sutro ; and he is the finest 
horse in Old Knoll sboro.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” 

“ Well, he ’s the finest one I ’ve seen here, yet. 
He has better points, even, than Gray Monarch, 
Kentucky Bob’s thoroughbred.” 

“ My ! That ’s what Papa calls him : thorough- 
bred ; an’ says when he ’s trained he ’ll be su-perb. 
But I ’d like to know who ’ll do it. Say. Is 
that old man coming to school too ? Who is he ? 
Is n’t he queer ? He ’s as wizzly-up as can be ; 
but he makes me think of grasshoppers, he ’s so 
awful jumpy an’ quick.” 

Steenie laughed. “ He ’s my body-servant, he 
says ; but he ’s a real ’ristocratic. He ’s a Califor- 
nian, like they used to be, and a Caballero. But 
after my mother died, he gave up everything but 
taking care of me. He ’s a perfect darling.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE IlORSE. 141 

“ Is he ? ” asked Beatrice, doubtfully. “ He 
does n’t look very — very pretty ; but, I mean 
he ’s beautiful, of course, only — here ’s Ma’am- 
selle ! Now for b-a-ba k-e-r-ker, baker ; p-a-pa 
pay-e-r, I mean p-e-r-per. Do you like to 
spell ? ” 

“ No. It makes me awful dizzy 
“ Me, too. But ’rithmetic ’s more worser. 
Never mind. The quicker we get done, the 
quicker recess ’ll come. I think recess is the 
nicest part of studying, don’t you ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Steenie, with conviction. 
“ Why, look there ! There ’s my Sutro talking 
to your father ! And they ’re walking away 
toward — oh ! — do — you b’lieve they ’ll go to 
the horse fields without us ? ” 

“ I s’ pose they will.” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” 

At which tone of regret, Beatrice said, kindly, 
“ You ’re the queerest girl ! But I ’ll ask Papa 
to let us go, recess-time. Papa ! Papa ! ” 

The Judge turned about and waited while the 
children ran up to him. “ Well, little folks! 
What now ? How could you tear yourselves 
away from your dear books ? Eh ? ” 

“ Now, Papa, please don’t tease ! I ’m sure 
you would n’t like to have a whole line of hard. 


142 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

two-syllabled words to learn, and rows and rows 
of dazzly figures to add up, would you ? ” 

“ I certainly should not ; on such a morning 
as this, too. But if I were a little girl, two little 
girls, I ’d go at those words and figures ‘ slap 
bang ! ’ And I ’d get them all tucked away 
inside of my cranium, so tight and sure that 
Ma’amselle would be obliged to say : ‘ Really, 
young ladies, tres bien ! and I will compensate 
you for your so hard labor, and give you leave 
at eleven of the clock, precisely, to go to the 
library of the father and look in.’ ” 

“ And, what then ? What then, Papa ? ” 

“ Maybe, peanuts ; maybe, horses. Different 
tastes need different rewards.” 

To Steenie this was not as intelligible as to 
Beatrice, who readily translated for her new 
friend’s benefit Judge Courtenay’s meaning, 
which was : that he evidently wished to be let 
alone then ; but that if they were studious they 
might leave off lessons at eleven o’clock, and 
come to the library, when he would take them to 
see the horses. “ If anybody cares about those 
old things ! ” 

Steenie cared so very much that she infected 
Beatrice with her own feeling ; and her few 
weeks at a “ really school ” had been of such use 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 143 

to her, that once her books were opened, she 
allowed herself no respite till she had conquered 
the tasks set before her. 

Which good example was, also, infectious to 
the untrained Beatrice, who surprised and 
pleased Ma’amselle by her sudden attention to 
duty. 

It is true that bright glances w T ere occasionally 
darted back and forth, and signs exchanged to 
mark the progress of learning on either side ; but, 
in spite of this, when eleven o’clock came they 
not only had done their work with satisfaction 
to their teacher, but with real pleasure to them- 
selves, — a cause of considerable astonishment, 
also.- 

“ Now, for Papa and fun ! My father ’s a 
awful jolly man. You can’t ’most gen’ally tell 
if he ’s teasing or earnest. But — he ’s nice.” 

“ So ’s mine. I guess fathers are always nice, 
are n’t they ? ” 

“ No, not always. I know a father ’at whips 
his girl. With a whip, like you do horses,” 
asserted Beatrice, gravely. 

“ I never — whip horses ! Never ! I would n’t 
be so cruel ! ” 

“ My — sake ! Why, are you ‘ mad ? ’ Why 
should n’t you whip ’em ? Everybody does.” 


144 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ They don’t at Santa Felisa. I ’ve seen folks 
do it here, though ; till I ’ve had to run away an’ 
cry. I think it ’s puf-fect-ly dreadful ! ” 

“ Why, Steenie Calthorp ! You are the veriest 
oddest one ! My Papa ’ll laugh at you. Pshaw ! 
He whips horses himself ; an’ he ’s a Judge, — a 
Judge-of-the-Supreme-Court ! If you know what 
that is.” 

“ I don’t. And I don’t care if he is, he 
ought n’t to. Bob says so, an’ Bob knows. He 
says it ’s ruiny to any poor thing to do it. Once 
he caught a vaquero doing it to one of the Plun- 
ketty man’s ploughers ; and he just snatched the 
rawhide out of the fellow’s hand, and gave it to 
the fellow himself ! Just as he was hurting the 
horse. I tell you, was n’t he mad ? And did n’t 
he jump around lively ? ” 

“ I should s’pose he did.” 

“ And Bob says : ‘Now you know how ’t is 
yourself ! 9 and that vaquero could be trusted any- 
where after that. Only once he tried to shoot 
Bob ; so Bob had to lick him again, an’ — that 
settled it.” 

“ I should s’pose it did ! ” quoted an amused 
voice, and Judge Courtenay’s hand rested lightly 
on Steenie’s curly head. “ You see I was tired 
waiting for eleven o’clock, because that old senor 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 145 

of yours has promised ine a treat, too ; so I came 
out to meet you on the path from your summer- 
house school-room.” 

“ How nice ! What is it, Papa ? ” 

“ This little girl is to give it to me.” 

“ I ? Why, what can a little girl like me do 
for a big man like you ? ” asked Steenie, in eager 
wonder. 

“ Show me how Kentucky Bob tackles an 
unbroken colt.” 

An instant’s critical scrutiny of the genial face 
before her convinced Steenie that the words were 
“ earnest,” not “ fun ; ” still — she could hardly 
believe her own vision. “ Do you really, truly 
mean it ? ” 

“ I really, truly do. If you are not afraid.” 

“ Afraid ? My ! I could n’t be afraid of a 
horse, could I ? I love them so ; and my father 
says that they know it, ’stinctively.” 

“ Instinctively. Well — the old Caballero’s 
stories seem almost incredible; but now is your 
chance to prove them true,” responded Diablo’s 
owner, studying, in his turn, very critically the 
animated face of the little girl beside him. He 
did not at all believe any of the “ yarns ” which 
Sutro had “ spun ” to him during their ramble 
over the horse-farm ; but he had immensely 
10 


146 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

enjoyed the boastful eloquence of one whom he 
considered a “ crack-brained old man ; ” and he 
did not seriously intend allowing Steenie to ap- 
proach nearer than a safe distance of the beau- 
tiful colt with the unsubdued will. But he 
thought it would give her a pleasure to watch 
Diablo over the paling ; and he anticipated great 
amusement, also, in watching Vives “back down ” 
when once brought face to face with fact, — 
fact in the shape of a “ vicious ” four-year-old 
whom the best horse-trainers had, as yet, been 
unable to reduce to submission. 

But he had n’t counted at all upon the perfect 
honesty and credulity of “ the Little Lady of the 
Horse,” nor her own proud acceptance of the 
title which her adoring Santa Felisans had given 
their “ Little Un ; ” else what followed then 
would never have happened. 

As they came to the paddock, and looked over 
the paling, Diablo’s owner pointed him out as : 
“ The handsome brute ! There he is. As power- 
ful and wicked as his name denotes. Locked up 
in those shapely limbs is a mint of money, — that 
nobody dares conquer for me. A fine animal, eh ? ” 

“ He ’s perfect ! Oh, you beauty, you darling ! ” 

Diablo stood at the extreme end of his pad- 
dock, head up, eyes flashing, every nerve quiver- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 147 

ing at sound of human voices. Of late, many 
attempts had been made to “ break him ; ” each 
resulting in fresh torment to himself, and failure 
to his would-be conquerors. Already he had 
learned to distrust humanity, and to watch against 
its assaults. 

“ Your lariat, Sutro, ” whispered Steenie, 
eagerly. And from his capacious pocket the 
caballero drew a fine silken cord which he always 
carried, and silently gave it to her. 

The Judge’s attention had been diverted, for 
an instant, but was recalled by a swish of flying 
draperies, and Beatrice’s low cry: “My — sake ! ” 

Steenie had leaped over the fence, and was 
swiftly proceeding down the field, with the 
springing step of one who merrily goes to meet 
a friend. 

“ Merciful powers ! Steen — ” 

But Sutro’s hand was firmly placed over Judge 
Courtenay’s lips. “ Ten thousand pardons ! Speak 
not — move not. Her safety and success depend 
on silence,” whispered the caballero, impres- 
sively. 

“ Her success ! ” Strong man though he was, 
Diablo’s owner turned faint, and he shut his eyes 
in horror at this terrible result of his own idle 
jesting. 


CHAPTER X. 



OWEVER, the 
Judge quickly 
aroused from the 
inaction his terror 


m\ had caused, and, leap- 


ing over the paling, 
would have followed 
this childish horse 
“ breaker,” had he 
been allowed. But 


STEENIE, DIABLO, AND THE JUDGE. Sutl O Sprang foi Wai d 


almost as instantly, 


leaned over the rails, and, with all the force of 
his iron muscles, clasped his long arms around 
the other’s shoulders. 

“ Caramba ! I tell thee — no ! Thou shalt not ! 
Wouldst see her killed before thy very eyes ? ” 

In a whisper, equally hoarse, the pinioned vic- 
tim of the Spaniard’s embrace retorted : “ No ! 
For that reason — ” 

“Move not, hand nor foot! Watch. She is 
safe. I swear it. She has a magic. I know not 
— she calls it love.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 149 

Magic ! It seemed so. Half way down the 
field Steenie slackened her pace, began to sing 
softly, bits and snatches of melodies ended al- 
most in the same breath, and to stop and pluck 
at the buttercup and clover blooms, here or there. 
She had the lariat loosely about her wrist ; but 
she paid no attention to Diablo, who stood, like 
a beautiful statue, regarding the intrusion. 

By slow degrees she made her way to a low- 
branched oak-tree standing at one side the pad- 
dock, not far from the colt’s own position, and, 
with the gentlest of motions, raised herself to 
its broad limb. 

Diablo was now obliged to turn his head in 
order to watch her, but otherwise he did not stir ; 
and, observing this, Judge Courtenay’s heart beat 
a trifle more naturally. 

“ Loose your arms, senor ; I shall not startle 
her now.” 

“ Ah ! Si ? Thou beholdest then that we spoke 
the truth ? In one half-hour my Little Un will 
come to thee leading the beast by the forelock. 
Thou wilt see.” 

“ Hang the beast ! That she comes out alive 
— unhurt — is all I care ! ” 

“In verity she will do that. She will do a 
miracle. Thou shalt see.” 


150 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HOESE. 

“ Is it possible that you are not afraid ? I 
thought you called her your ‘ heart’s dearest ’! ” 

“ En verdad. She is the whole world to Sutro 
Vives. But I am not afraid, I. She is all love, 
all innocence, all fearlessness. She would win 
over the Evil One himself, I believe, if she could 
meet him ! ” 

“ She certainly has a chance now to try ! ” 
groaned Diablo’ s owner, too anxious to be greatly 
amused by Sutro’ s extravagance of language, 
and holding himself ready to rush forward to the 
child’s aid at the first ugly movement on the 
animal’s part. 

Timid Beatrice stood upon the lower round of 
the fence, scarcely breathing in the fascination 
of her fear ; yet it was her eyes which inter- 
preted the first overture between those two out 
there in the paddock. “ See ! She ’s laid her 
head down on the branch an’ pertends she ’s going 
to sleep ; and I can hear her — I surely can — 
singing soft, soft, kind of loving-y like. And now 
— he ’s moving — but slow — as anything.” 

“ Yes. I am watching.” Neither voice raised 
above a whisper. 

“ But — look now ! He ’s a walking up to her ; 
curious like, is n’t he ? He ’s — see him ! ” 

Intently they gazed upon the pantomime. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 151 

Steenie lay on her leafy perch, one little foot 
dangling and swinging lazily back and forth, her 
blue eyes turned caressingly, almost imploringly, 
upon Diablo, as if beseeching him to come to 
her. 

Her own description, afterward, was : “ T just 
thought at him as hard as ever I could. I 
would n’t think of anything else, only that I did 
love him, and was sorry he did n’t make friends 
with his vranted-to-be friends, and I wanted he 
should know ’bout it. And by-and-by, I s’pose 
my thought hit his somewhere, — as Bob believes, 
— and then — it was done. He just came closer 
an’ closer ; an’ by-an’-by he stretched out his 
pretty nose and smelled of my foot. Then he 
waited a minute, an’ I did n’t even wink, bub just 
kept on saying, inside of me : ‘ Don’t you see I 
love you ? Don’t you know I love you ? ’ 

“ Pretty soon he sniffed at my hand in my lap ; 
and then he ate the clover blossoms ; an’ then 
he let me move one finger a little bit — though 
he jumped at that. Afterwards, I could move 
my whole hand, and smooth his face, that was 
soft as satin. When I could coax his head down 
to mine, so I could talk into his ears, I had no 
more to do. I remembered everything Bob taught 
me ; and when I knew he was all right, and 


152 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

was n’t afraid any more, I let him smell of the 
lariat, and fuss with it ’s long as he liked. Then 
I made a slip-halter, — Bob’s way, — a;n 5 that ’s 
all.” 

That was all, perhaps, but it was marvellous in 
Judge Courtenay’s eyes ; while those of old Sutro 
shone with fond pride. 

“ I told thee so, senor ! See — she is leading 
him as gentle as a lamb. Come, little senorita, 
let us move back a space, and leave him to be 
presented to one at a time. The master first, as 
is right it should be.” 

“ Well ! ” ejaculated that gentleman, left in the 
paddock, regarding with growing astonishment 
the small figure which approached, leading Diablo 
by his silken thrall, and with one arm thrown 
upward upon his neck. “ You are the most won- 
derful child in the United States ! ” 

Steenie smiled, and her eyes shone, but not 
from vanity at this unbounded praise. She had 
been hearing just such exclamations all her life 
from her beloved, outspoken Santa Felisans, and 
she knew that they came only from a mutual 
love. But she was proud of her new conquest ; 
and she led Diablo close to his master, and held 
out the end of the cord for the Judge to take. 
“ If you are just gentle with him, sir, he ’ll 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 153 

behave beautifully. He ’s been frightened ; that ’s 
all.” 

He was frightened still, and, at the first motion 
of his owner’s extended hand, drew backward, 
nervously. 

tm Frightened ! If ever I saw ugliness in a 
brute, I see it in him now. Observe his eyes.” 

“ Oh, don’t say that, sir, please ! You don’t 
understand. ’Xcuse me, but I ’m sure you don’t. 
Bob says a fine horse is all ‘ nerves,’ an’ the ‘ most 
sensitive thing in creation.’ He says folks ought 
to treat ’em like babies ; ’cause they feel things 
more. Softly, my pretty one ! Don’t you be 
afraid. Steenie ’ll let nobody hurt you — not a 
body — even him ! ” 

“ Hm-m ! ” 

“ Somebody ’s whipped him sometime, or struck 
him cruelly.” 

u Why shouldn’t they? He’s acted like a 
villain.” 

“ I wish I ’d been here ! He would n’t then — 
’cause I know. See. He ’s all gentle now. You 
may put your hand on his nose ; but it must be 
kind — kind — ’cause that ’s the way.” 

Diablo did permit his master to fondle him ; 
and at the first touch of the delicate nostrils all 
the Judge’s love for horse-flesh sprang to the 


154 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

front, and with it a subtler appreciation of 
horse-nature than he had ever before known. 
“ Poor fellow ! Is it so ? Are you not really 
vicious? — then I’ll not part with you.” 

“Part with him? Why, sir?” 

“ Because I thought he would be useless to us. 
I bought him for a carriage horse, to match that 
other colt, Brown Bess ; but, while she is break- 
ing in like a kitten, he has resisted everybody. 
I think he will again — after you go away from 
him.” 

“ Then I won’t go away. Oh, wait a moment ! 
I ’ve thought of something. S’posin’ you teach 
Diablo to be your very own, ownest horse ; 
s’posin’ you don’t let any grooms or anybody do 
anything for him but just you, yourself 1 You 
could make him as smart as Tito, maybe.” 

“ ‘ Maybe ’ ? Is Tito so brilliant, then ? ” 
asked the Judge, smiling, and greatly delighted 
that Diablo now stood quietly beside them, nib- 
bling at the grass or sniffing about Steenie’s 
curly head, without resenting their presence or 
voices. Sutro and Beatrice had also drawn 
near and leaned against the paling to hear what 
the others were saying. 

“ Why — he does n ’t — shine. That ’s ‘ bril- 
liant,’ is n’t it ? But he ’s awful ’telligy — I 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 155 

mean intelligent. Bob says, 4 He ’s the brainiest 
horse he ’s ’quainted with, an’ sweetest tempered 
to boot.’ He knows every single word I say to 
him ; and if he can’t talk much with his tongue, 
he does with his actions an’ his eyes. He drives 
without reins, an’ he waltzes — beau-u-tifully ! 
An’ he limps, an’ ‘goes it blind,’ an’ does the 
cutestest things you ever saw a horse do. Oh, 
won’t you let Diablo be just as clever ? Either 
for your own self or Beatrice? Wouldn’t you 
like Diablo for your very own, Beatrice?” 

“No: I should not,” answered that young 
person, decisively. 

“I’ve half a mind to try your notion, little 
one ! There ’s no fool like an old fool, they say ; 
and, maybe, I shall do better at horse-training 
than at law. It ’s a step upwards, too, from the 
4 bench ’ to the saddle ! But — I confess I ’m 
very ignorant. The 4 breaking ’ of my horses 
has always been left to professional trainers. I 
have, heretofore, been perfectly satisfied to accept 
results only.” 

44 It seems perfectly funny to hear ’bout 4 break- 
ing’ horses like they were dishes. Bob says it ’s 
a wrong word, an’ it ’s ’sponsible for more suffer- 
ing to the poor ‘things ’an any other word in the 
language.” 


156 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Humph ! Who is this oracle, 4 Bob ’ ? ” 

Steenie explained, and the Judge was so inter- 
ested that he exclaimed : “ I wonder if I could n’t 
induce him to come out here and take care of 
my stock-farm?” 

“ Maybe,” answered Steenie ; “ but I don’t 
guess so. He says there is n’t room enough for 
his lungs out East. He needs a great deal of 
breathin’ space.” 

“Well — Bob or no Bob — will you give an 
old man like me a few lessons in horse-break — 
What word shall I use ? ” 

“ It ’s teaching, — just teaching ’em. Like 
Beatrice an’ I go to school. It’s funny for me 
to tell you things, is n’t it ? ’Cause my grand- 
mother thinks you ’re a — what did she call it ! 
A very wonderful magician — no, lo-gician ; and 
when I asked her what that was, she said maybe 
I could understand 6 smart’ better.” 

“ Thank you. Now, when shall our next 
lesson be?” 

“ To-morrow — to-morrow — that ever is. ’Cause 
it does n’t do to let Diablo forget us. He ’s same 
as babies yet. He has n’t learned to remember.” 

* “ To-morrow, then ; and I am greatly indebted 
to you. I believe — with both halves of my 
mind, now — I will decide to act wholly upon 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 157 

your suggestion, and see what comes of it. I 
will train him for myself, alone. I shall be at 
home, hereafter, for some weeks ; and the oppor- 
tunity is mine.’ , 

“ Oh, how glad I am ! Do you hear that, 
Diablo, darling? You’re going to be nobody’s 
horse but just this kind, kind man’s ! You ’re 
never to be whipped, nor loaded, nor over-driven, 
nor checked-back, nor strapped-down, nor any- 
thing horrid like these queer Old Knollsboro 
folks do to horses ! ” 

“ Hold on, hold on ! I have not promised any 
of these ‘ thousand and one ’ things, little lady ! 
I shall want him to be useful.” 

“ Of course, and that ’s why you won’t do 
them. I saw some poor horses on the street 
yesterday. They were before a big carriage, as 
heavy, as heavy ! And they had ugly straps to 
hold their poor heads up — this way ! Till their 
throats ached so they could n’t breathe, hardly. 
Not like you help them with a strap when they ’re 
racing, so the wind won’t choke in their ‘ pipes,’ — 
’cause that is n’t bad, just for the little minute 
they have ’em so ; but these were all crooked 
back, terr’ble, so they couldn’t see, only a 
little way up toward the sky. They had a 
mis’able action; ’cause they had ‘blinders’ on, 


158 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

besides, and all they dared to do was just step 
straight up an down, up an’ down, fear they ’d 
hurt themselves. The coachman was lashing 
them to make them go, — ’cause his carriage 
folks seemed in a hurry ; an’ I should have 
laughed at him, if I had n’t had to cry for them 
— the horses. I could n’t help thinking ’bout 
’em when I went to bed ; an’ my father says ‘ It ’s 
ign’rant cruelty,’ an’ ‘if the folks understood 
horses’ feelings, like they ’d ought to, why every- 
body ’d be gladder.’ ” 

“ Humph ! You ’re a very close observer. And 
now, shall I lift you over the fence ? ” 

“ No, thank you. I ’m going to walk once 
around the paddock with Diablo, and ’xplain to 
him ’bout our having to go, and our coming back 
to-morrow, an’ everything. You can bid him 
good-by, if you want to.” 

“ May I, indeed ? How shall I do it ? ” 

“Why — same’s folks. Same’s me. Say, 
‘Good-morning, Diablo; pleased to make your 
’quaintance,’ or anything nicey sounding an’ 
p’lite. He knows, Diablo does. An’>you want 
him brought up like a gentleman’s horse, don’t 
you ? So he ’ll understand when folks use good 
language, an’ not what Papa calls ‘ ruffian talk.’ 
He knows, Diablo does. See here? See that 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 159 

fine head, broad as anything above the eyes ? 
That ’s ’cause it ’s full of brains ; an’ brains are 
where folks think an’ know things. If he had n’t 
have had a good bead, he would n’t have under- 
stood me so soon, first off. He looks as if he 
might be as clever as Tito, ’most.” 

“ Good-morning, Diablo. I am sincerely de- 
lighted to make friends with you,” said Judge 
Courtenay, very gravely, though with a twinkle 
in his eyes. 

But Steenie did not care for the twinkle, only 
laughed in return ; and, by her hand upon his 
face forcing the colt’s head down, she gently 
grasped his forelock and bent it still lower. 
“ Bow p’litely, dear Diablo, ’cause you’d ought 
to.” Then she walked away as she had come, 
with her arm upon his shoulder, and his light 
leading-string held carelessly in her other hand. 

The Judge climbed back over the paling, and, 
catching sight of Sutro’s exultant face, laughed 
and pulled out his watch. “Well, old fellow! 
You ’re a pretty good prophet ! Five minutes 
past time, that’s all.” 

“ Caramba ! More than that since she brought 
him up to thee with the lariat round his nozzle, 
no?” 

“ Beaten — beaten ! I give it up. But do you 


160 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

know, senor, that you have the honor to serve a 
very remarkable young person ? ” 

“Ten thousand pardons, Senor Juez [Judge], I 
have known that forever. Si.” 

“ Hm-m. There she comes ; and I leave it to 
you, Senor Yives, to convey to her family my 
acknowledgment of her services. If in any way 
I can serve her or them, they have but to com- 
mand me.” 

The Judge had a better understanding of 
human than equine nature. He knew that he 
could not have found a messenger more delighted 
to carry messages of courtesy than old Sutro, nor 
one who would do so more gracefully. He knew, 
also, that his cordial gratitude would be shorn of 
nothing, but rather embellished, by its passage 
over the Caballero’s lips. 

“ At thy feet, senor. Thy appreciation of our 
so beloved one will give pleasure to our house- 
hold. I have the honor to salute thee ; and — 
Service? Ten thousand pardons — but there is 
a way in which — at thy leisure — ” 

Again the Judge pulled out his watch. “ You 
have but to name, as I said. To-morrow, during 
the children’s study-hour, I will be pleased to 
hear your suggestions.” 

“ Thanks. Thanks. The service old Sutro 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 161 

claims is for our ‘ Little Lady of the Horse/ — 
not for himself. Manana , then ; and Adios ! ” 

Five minutes later, Steenie, mounted upon her 
Tito, and with her Caballero walking proudly by 
her side, paced slowly out of the Judge’s grounds. 
“It has been a good, good day, my Sutro ! Such 
a happiness ! You will be happy too, is it not? 
And what do you think, besides? That kind, 
splendid gentleman says that he has a pretty, 
black horse, whom nobody uses much, that shall 
be loaned to you whenever we wish for a long 
ride. Then you will not have to go hobblety-bob 
on those poor worn-out livery hacks. Are you 
not glad ? ” 

“ Glad. En verdad. But of more yet, mi nina. 
Old Sutro has something in his head besides non- 
sense, no ? Listen. He offered service — and 
there is a way, in verity. I told him. Manana 
— he will do it, and Sutro’s heart will be at 
peace. Thou wilt then have money — more 
than thou canst ever use. It is so. I tell thee.” 

“ Su-tro-Vi-ves ! What — have you done ? 
Have you asked that gentleman for money ? Do 
you need it ? Why not ask my father, then ? 
Oh, Sutro ! ” 

“ Tente [hold on] ! Thou leapest to a blunder 
as Tito does over a hurdle. I have asked no 


11 


162 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

man for money, I. Why not ? Because, in all 
California, there is no man who has more of it 
than I. And what I have I will give to thee. 
Thou art to be my lieredera [heiress], thou. After 
Sutro Vives thou wilt inherit.” 

44 Ah ! ha, ha, my rich one ! And what shall 
I inherit, sir? All your whims and notions, and 
your old sombrero, maybe ? 4 No ? ’ ” 

“ ’Sta buen ’ ! Laugh if thou wilt ; in derision 
now, but, by-and-by, in glee. And what shalt 
thou inherit? Wait and see. Wait and see. I 
would have told thee but for thy ridicule. No 
matter. Quite time enough for thee — when 
Sutro Vives is done with life. Which will be 
soon, no ? But I say — yes.” 

44 And I say no, no, no ! good Sutro,” said 
Steenie, sobered instantly by the gloomy look 
which settled upon her old comrade’s face. “ You 
are to live longer than any Vives who ever was, 
and to use every bit of your wonderful riches for 
your own cristy, crusty, blessed self. Hear me 
say that, my caballero, — I, your own 4 Little Lady 
of the Horse’! So there! And home again!” 

Sutro smiled once more. His mood was wholly 
dependent upon that of his beloved 44 ninas” who 
was his one object in life ; and, with the smile 
still upon his face, he swung her from Tito’s back, 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 163 

and led the latter away to the comfortable stall 
which now bade fair to become his permanent 
home. 

“ Here we are, Papa, Grandmother ! And the 
loveliest time in all the world ! Oh, it ’s just 
fun, fun, fun to go to school in a summer-house 
— and be a colt teacher afterward — Why, 
Papa ! What — what is the matter ? Are your 
eyes — ” 

But she did not finish the sentence. A groan, 
such as is wrung from strong men only by great 
trouble, fell from her fathers lips, as he stretched 
out his arms to enfold her, and dropped his poor, 
sightless eyes upon her shoulder. “ My dear 
little Steenie ! What is to become of you ! ” 

The child’s glance flew round to her grand- 
mother’s face ; but its expression startled her 
even more than her father’s despondency. Madam 
Calthorp sat gazing straight before her, but see- 
ing nothing, saying nothing, while every drop of 
blood seemed to have left her white cheek, and 
the seams of an added decade to have fallen 
upon it. 

“ Grandmother — don’t ! Don’t look like that ! 
What awful thing has happened ? Do speak to 
me — please ! Somebody ! ” 

The words broke the spell of that strange 


164 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

silence. But Steenie had never in her life seen 
anything so sorrowful as the gaze which came 
out of vacancy to fix itself upon her own person. 

u My poor little darling, everything has come 
upon us — but death. We are ruined. Ruined ! ” 


CHAPTER XI. 



IOBODY said any- 
thing more. 

Steenie stood 
perfectly still, 
too perplexed to 
even try to understand 
what “ ruin ” meant ; 
till, after awhile, 
her father lifted 
his head and re- 
1 iased her from 
this, to her 
terrible, posi- 
tion. Then she 
darted from 
the room and from those tragic faces, as if, by 
turning her back upon them, she could banish 
them from her thought. 

In the kitchen she found Resolved Tubbs with 
his Bible on his knee. 

Now Resolved was a good man, a really sincere 
Christian ; but Steenie had lived long enough in 


166 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

the house to learn that when Brother Tubbs sat 
down at midday with his Bible on his knee and 
his spectacles pulled into place, he was in a state 
of mind to read Jeremiah only, and ignore the 
more joyful prophets. 

She had come with the gayest of spirits into 
the astonishing gloom of the household, and she 
wanted no more dismalness ; so she tarried in 
the kitchen but long enough to catch one sepul- 
chral gleam from Resolved’s uplifted “ glasses,” 
and passed out into the garden where she had 
seen Mary Jane calmly gathering strawberries. 

“Well, it can’t be so awful, I believe, or she 
would n’t be doing that ! ” thought the troubled 
child, and hurried forward to the housekeeper’s 
side. 

“ Mary Jane ! dear Mary Jane ! Whatever 
has happened ? What is ‘ ruin,’ and who has 
done it ? ” 

“ Hm-m. That ’s a’most more ’n I can say. 
Did n’t they tell ye nothin’, dearie ? ” 

“ Not a thing. Only Papa says : ‘ What ’s to 
become of me!’ and Grandmother: ‘We’re 
ruined.’ But I think Mr. Resolved knows, ’cause 
he ’s sitting down an’ looking unhappy reading. 
What is it ? ” 

“ The miser’ble unbeliever ! — even if he is my 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 167 

own flesh an’ blood ! Why can’t he turn to an’ 
do sunthin’, an’ keep a-thinkin’ : 6 The Lord ’ll 
provide,’ stidder huntin’ out more trouble from 
the blessed Book ? I’ve a mind ter go in an’ 
shake him ! ” 

“ Why, Mary Jane ! Shake Mr. Tubbs ! ” 
Steenie’s horrified imagination picturing that 
lumbago- tortured old man in his sister’s vig- 
orous grasp. 

“Well, o’ course, not really. But, I’d like 
ter know ! Here comes the bad news, an’ down 
flops the hull fambly, an’ goes ter sighin’ — fur- 
naces ! Stidder ary one liftin’ finger ter see 
what kin be done ’bout it. That ain’t my way 
o’ ’terpretin’ the Scripters ; an’ I don’t want it 
ter be your’n.” 

“ I guess it won’t be, Mary Jane. I don’t like 
to feel bad, never.” 

“No more do I ! So — reckin you ’ll be as well 
off out here ’ith me, doin’ sunthin’, as anywheres 
elset, fer the space o’ the next short time. So — 
jest set down on the grass there, dearie, an’ 
hull what berries I ’ve got picked, while I get 
some more ; an’ I ’ll tell yer all I know ’bout 
anything.” 

Steenie promptly obeyed. Mary Jane’s cheer- 
fulness of temper was very pleasant, and they 


168 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

had long ago become fast friends. “ Now — tell, 
please.” 

“ Hm-m. Plain ’s I understand it, it ’s this 
way : Your pa an’ yer granma has lost every 
dollar they had in the world. They’re as poor 
now as I be, — poorer.” 

“ Well ? ” asked Steenie, to whom “ dollars ” 
and “ poverty” conveyed no distinct impression. 

“Well? Ain’t that enough? But I don’t 
b’lieve you re’lize it a mite. I can’t, hardly 
myself yet, nuther. But all the money yer 
granma had, an’ it wa’n’t more ’n jest enough 
ter keep us livin’, plain an’ comfort’ble as we 
do, was up in a bank, some’res. I hain’t no 
faith in banks. They ’re ’tarnally bu’stin’, er doin’ 
sunthin’ startlin’. I always keep mine in a 
stockin’ ; an’ the stockin’ ’s in a big blue box 
in the bottom o’ that hair trunk o’ mine. Things 
bein’ so uncertain in this life, I think it ’s best 
ter tell ye ; but don’t ye lisp a word, — not even 
to brother Resolved. ’Cause he ’d be boun’ ter 
have it put in some differ’nt place not half so 
safe. In case I should be took off sudden t, as 
folks sometimes is, somebody ’d oughter know ; 
an’ you ’re trustible. I ’ve found that out.” 

“ Thank you. But, about the bank. What 
is it ?’ 7 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 169 

a Beat if I kin tell ye plain. ’Cause I don’t 
source know myself. Old Knollsboro bank is 
that big brick buildin’ acrost from the stun 
church. An’ in it, somehow, folks hides all the 
money they have ; an ? the bank folks pays ’em 
out little dribs on ’t to a time ; an’ that ’s all 
they have ter keep house on. That ’s as near as 
I kin put it. Most every town has a bank, too ; 
but, ’cause yer pa thought they was n’t no other 
so safe as the old one here to Knollsboro he uset 
ter put all his sellery, too, inter this one ; an’ 
now it ’s done jest like the rest on ’em often does, 
— it ’s bu’sted. That ’s what Resolved calls it. 
Yer granma said ‘ failed ; ’ but I ’low it comes 
ter the same thing when it means ’at every 
dollar they had, uther one, is lost, somehow. An’ 
what ’s wusser : yer granma owned ‘ stawk ’ in 
it, too ; though how anybody could keep a livin’ 
head er critter an’ not never let it be seen, ’s 
more ’n I fathom er try ter. I s'pose they par- 
tered it out, er sunthin.’ An’ now that stawk ’s 
gone too, an’ ter make it good, she ’s li’ble ter a 
hull lot o’ thousan’ dollars. Think on it ! Ever 
so many hull — ’durin’ — thousan’ — dollars ! 
An she says — I heered her tellin’ Mr. Dan’l — 
that 6 she must pay it if it took this house.’ 
An’ he says : ‘ Mother ! Where you ’ve lived yer 


170 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

hull life ! It would kill you ! ’ — an’ I ’low it 
would/’ 

“ But how could a body pay anything with a 
house ? ” 

“ Sell it, I s’pose, an’ take that money an’ throw' 
it arter t’other ’at ’s gone. I dunno, rightly ; fer 
that ’s jest what I asted Resolved, an’ all he said 
was : 4 Sil-ly women ! Sell er mortgage — sil-ly 
wom-en ! They don’t never have no heads fer 
business ! ’ So, arter that, I knowed no more ’n 
I did afore, — which w r as n’t nothin’, square. But 
how ’s a body to l’arn if their men critters won’t 
l’arn ’em ? An’ I guess we ’ve got as many 
berries as we shall eat ter-day ; an’ that ’s 
knowledge more in my line ’n tryin’ ter explain 
things I don’t understan’. So let ’s go in out o’ 
the sun.” 

They entered the house, whither Sutro had pre- 
ceded them, and found that sociable person vainly 
endeavoring to extract more than monosyllables 
from the lips of his house-mate, Tubbs. At 
which Mary Jane’s ready wrath burst forth upon 
her pessimistic brother. 

“ I don’t see what ails you — Resolved, ’at ye 
can’t give a body a civil answer ! You — hain’t 
lost nothin’, ’at I knows on. An’ if ye call it a 
Christian way o’ meetin’ trials, ter set there an’ 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 171 

let a poor heathen Mexicer pester the life out on 
ye ’fore ye ’ll speak him a decent word, I dunno ! 
It ain’t the way with good Baptist folks, any- 
how.” 

As Mr. Tubbs had long before accepted the 
Methodist creed, while his sister had professed 
another, this was an old bone of contention, 
which he was quite ready to pick up, to the for- 
getfulness of newer grievances. 

Which was exactly what Mary Jane desired. 
“ Best way ter stir Resolved out o’ the hypoes is 
ter make him mad ! Then he ’ll fly ’round an’ 
fergit lumbago an’ ever’ thing elset. He ’ll chop 
more kindlin’ in ten minutes when he ’s riled, ’an 
he will in a hull day when things goes ter suit 
him.” 

He became “ riled ” on the instant, and shut his 
Bible with a bang, while his spectacles were shoved 
into their usual resting-place upon his bald head 
with an energy that endangered the glass. 

To escape an impending war of words, Steenie 
retreated to the presence of her own kin once 
more, and this time with a determination to beg 
from them enough information to enable her to 
understand clearly this new anxiety they were 
suffering. 

“Yes, Steenie, I will tell you,” said Madam 


172 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Calthorp, gently, and quite in her natural man- 
ner again. “ But do you go out of doors, Daniel. 
The air is better for you, and Sutro has returned. 
I will be careful in my disclosures, but there is no 
need for you to hear the painful repetition.” 

Mr. Calthorp rose wearily. There was a look 
of hopelessness about his fine face which even 
blindness had not brought to it ; and Steenie 
watched him depart with a heavier heart than 
she had ever known. 

“ Now, Grandmother.” 

“Yes, dear. To begin with, though we were 
never rich, neither were we poor. We had 
enough, with economy, to provide for all our 
ordinary needs, and a surplus for emergencies. 
What your father had inherited and acquired, 
together with my own money, was all in one 
place, — intrusted to a corporation of which your 
grandfather was the founder, and which people 
said was ‘ as good as the bank of England.’ 
Some weeks ago, about the time you came from 
Santa Felisa, I heard rumors of trouble about 
this money of ours, and I instituted inquiries to 
verify or disprove them. The report brought to 
me was that they were without foundation, 
that our possessions were as secure as they had 
always seemed, and that I need have no uneasi- 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 173 

ness whatever. I did not mention these rumors 
to my son, because his own personal affliction 
appeared to be as much as he — as any of us — 
could bear ; but now I wish that I had done so. 
Of course he could not read ; and his sensitive- 
ness about meeting people, together with my 
mistaken kindness, kept him wholly ignorant 
until the blow fell. This morning, after you 
left us, a messenger was sent to us by the 
directors, announcing the sudden and utter fail- 
ure of the bank ; as well as that I, a stockholder, 
am liable — that is, in debt — for several thou- 
sand dollars. Now, this is exactly our situation : 
I own this house and a small farm in another 
part of the county. That I can sell for enough 
to pay my indebtedness, except about one thou- 
sand dollars. Many poor people will be losers 
by this failure, and I cannot rest, retaining any- 
thing — even if I might — which would relieve 
their necessities. So, the only course left us is 
to sell this house also ; and out of its proceeds 
pay the extra one thousand. There will be a 
small sum remaining, or should be, — enough I 
hope to hire a tiny cottage somewhere ; but how 
we are to exist in that cottage the future alone 
can prove.” 

Steenie listened attentively, breathlessly ; her 


174 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

big blue eyes fixed upon her grandmother’s face, 
and rejoicing in the calmness which had returned 
to it. She did not know that the only expression 
of distress which the proud Madam had given, 
had been the one exclamation at first sight of 
her own self. “ Everything has come upon us — 
but death. We are ruined. Ruined ! ” 

“ When, Grandmother ? When will we go to 
the cottage ? ” 

“ Oh, I do not know. Not just yet. The 
adjustment of these matters will take time ; we 
shall not be disturbed in the immediate present ; 
but the eventual condition of affairs will be what 
I have decided already. And Steenie, my dear 
little child, now you have a chance to be even 
doubly helpful to your poor father. Blindness is 
a trial which no seeing person can comprehend ; 
but for a strong man to suffer it, and to know 
that he cannot do one thing to- alleviate the ne- 
cessities of those who are dear to him, is terrible. 
It is this which is so intolerable to my son. If 
he could regain his sight, no matter how poor he 
was, he would face the world gayly for your 
sake and mine. He would work for us and for- 
get all the mishap ; but to be idle in such a 
strait — ah ! I know from my own heart what 
it must be to him.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 175 

“ Poor, poor papa ! But can’t I do something ? 
Maybe I can ! I ’m not blind nor old, and I ’m 
as strong as strong. See here ! I can lift a 
chair ever so high ! And Judge Courtenay says 
I’m most puffiectly ’veloped for a ten-year-old 
goin’ on ’leven. I ’m much bigger ’n Beatrice, 
an’ she ’s half-past twelve. Is n’t there some 
way, Grandmother, dear Grandmother? Think, 
please ; in that in-telligence of yours, maybe 
you ’ll find out something. And if you do — 
won’t I do it 1 Just you see ! ” 

“ You precious baby ! If your ability only 
matched your courage, Grandmother knows that 
you would banish every care from all our hearts ! 
But, yes ; there is one thing you can do : bear 
whatever deprivations you may have with that 
same sunny spirit ; be patient when, by-and-by, 
we older folks begin to lose our own serenity, and 
grow fretful, perhaps, and difficult to get along 
with. You can remember then that it isn’t 
what you call our ‘truly selves,’ but the worn 
nerves and depressed hearts that cause the sharp 
words and moods. Early to learn a woman’s 
lesson, my gay little Steenie ; but I believe you 
are capable of learning it well.” 

All which Steenie did not quite understand. 
This book-loving old student was apt to “ talk 


176 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

over the head ” of a “ ’most-’leven ’’-year-old ; but 
she gained this much : that, no matter what hap- 
pened, she was to make things as bright as she 
could, and her loving heart responded loyally. 

“ I ’ll be as patient as patient. And I ’ll never 
let my papa think a thing I can help ; and — 
Oh ! There ’s the dinner-bell ! ” 

Probably this common, every-day sound was a 
relief to everybody in the house ; and though the 
meal was served a full hour later than usual, the 
extra care which had been expended upon it more 
than compensated for the delay. 

“ Oh, Mary Jane ! How good that beefsteak 
does smell ! ” 

“ Humph ! Better enjoy it while ye kin. Only 
the Lord knows how long any on us ’ll eat beef- 
steak ! ” commented Resolved Tubbs, dolefully. 

“ Hush yer complainin’, can’t ye ! An’ as long 
as the Lord continners ter bother ’ith us poor 
worms an’ sends porter-houses, receive ’em in the 
same sperrit, an’ be thankful ! ” retorted Mary 
Jane. 

“ Well, I call that sacrilegious, if you have 
enj’yed full immersion ! ” said the brother, snap- 
ping at a fly upon the table-cloth with such energy 
as to upset the salt. 

“ There it goes ! Only the quer’l come afore 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 177 

the upsettin’. An I do say it : I ’d ruther be 
sacrilegious with my tongue, ’an so sack-cloth-an’- 
ashesy with my sperrit.” 

“ Resolved ! Mary Jane ! ” remonstrated Ma- 
dam, sternly, yet with a smile dawning upon 
her lips. And if ever a quarrel can be said to be 
opportune, that one was ; for Steenie laughed 
outright, and Sutro tittered, while even Mr. Cal- 
thorp lost the gravity of his expression for a little. 

It was a good dinner ! And there was more 
sense in Mary Jane’s philosophy than in her 
brother’s after all ; for the savory dishes tempted 
appetites into existence, and through material 
enjoyment made even mental disquietude easier 
to endure. 

But after dinner was over, Mr. Calthorp retired 
to his own room and closed the door, and Madam 
retreated to her library ; so that Steenie, driven 
to her own resources, did the most natural thing 
in the world : got Sutro to saddle Tito and set 
off for a gallop, leaving the old caballero to at- 
tend upon her father, “ case he should come out 
an’ want somebody an’ not both of us be gone.” 

Sutro remained, partly on account of Steenie’s 
argument, and partly that for a long ride he 
utterly disdained the livery hack it had been his 
fortune to use during his stay at Old Knollsboro ; 

12 


178 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

for lie did not feel quite free to go to Rook wood, 
so soon again, and borrow “the pretty black 
horse ” which had been offered for his enjoy- 
ment. 

Thus he was forced to hear various unpleasant 
remarks from Resolved Tubbs’ grim lips about 
“plenty o’ mouths ter fill ’ithout no furriners,” 
and so on ; all which, busied in visions of his 
own brain, he ignored as referring to himself. 
For was n’t he at that very moment planning 
the details of a scheme which should enrich 
everybody ? 

As for Steenie, she gave Tito his head, and he 
took it, far out into the open country, with a 
will and spirit that drove every care from his 
little rider’s mind. But after he had travelled a 
long distance he cast a shoe ; and, seeing a smithy 
near, Steenie rode up to the door and coolly re- 
quested to have the shoe set. 

“ Humph ! Who are you, any way, child ? 
And who is going to pay me for my trouble ? ” 
demanded the farrier, with equal coolness. 

Pay for it ? Why, at Santa Felisa. the smith 
was “ their own ” — nobody paid. Here — 
Steenie didn’t like such difficult questions, but 
she answered, simply enough : “ I s’pose some- 
body will. I ’m Steenie Calthorp ; and Tito can’t 



Steenie coolly requested to have the shoe set. — Page 178 




























































THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 179 

go home .barefoot, over these rough roads, can 
he ? You must see that for yourself, Mr. Smith, 
don’t you ? ” 

“ I see that, plain enough ; and if you are one 
of the Calthorps down at Knollsboro — here 
goes ! They ’re honest folks, and always have 
been. Never a poor man lost a cent by them, 
and that’s the truth. They ’re the right kind of 
aristocrats, they are. Pay for what they have, 
and what they can’t pay for go without, and no 
complaining. But no matter this time aboot 
pay for a trifle of kindness like this. I ’ll 
shoe this handsome fellow, and proud of the 
job, any time you choose to ride out this way 
and show me how a little girl can ride when 
she puts her mind to it. That ’s so. You may 
count upon it.” 

“ Why, Mr. Smith ! I ’m sure that ’s very kind 
of you, an’ I ’predate it. I like to see a man 
shoe a horse, when he does it neatly, an’ what 
Bob calls ‘ with sense of a horse’s feelings.’ I 
think I could almost be a farrier myself, some- 
times. I do, so.” 

“ A farrier, hey ? There ’s something you 
could do far better than that. Where did you 
learn to ride ? ” . 

“ I never learned. I always rode.” 


180 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Where ? ” 

“ At Santa Felisa, California.” 

“ So ? Then all I have to say is that you had 
better set up a school and teach some of these 
young folks round here, who almost murder 
their horses with their blundering clumsiness. 
For I never saw anybody sit a horse as well as 
you do ; and that ’s the truth.” 

When the shoe was set, Steenie thanked the 
helpful smith, promised to visit him again, and 
went on her way homeward. But she was very 
thoughtful and preoccupied ; and Tito, fully 
sympathizing with her mood, dropped into a 
gentle canter, and broke his pleasant pace not 
once till his mistress suddenly bent forward and 
threw her arms around his neck. 

“ Tito, my Tito ! I ’ll do it ! I will, I will ! ” 

Tito softly nodded up and down. Whatever 
she meant to do, — and it was something which 
made her eyes shine and her face dimple with 
hopeful smiles, — be sure that her wise playfellow 
fully intended to help her. 


CHAPTER XII. 



RATTLESNAKE. 


ELL, Senor 
Vives, I am 
at your ser- 
vice now, ” an- 
nounced Judge Cour- 
tenay, at the next 
appearance of Steenie 
and her eaballero at 
Rookwood. “ In what 
can I advise you ?” 
“Hm-m. It is a pro- 
found secret. Ten thousand pardons, Senor Juez 
[Mr. Judge] ; but I may close the door, no ? ” 

“ Close it, certainly, if you wish ; but we 
are not likely to be disturbed. This is my 
private office.” 

“ I would not for a hundred worlds that others 
should hear what I disclose ! ” repeated old 
Sutro, cautiously. 

“ You are perfectly safe. Be assured.” 

“ Si ? Then here is my desire : I wish to 
prepare my testcimento [will]. In verity, that is 


182 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

my hope and prayer.” The Spaniard’s face wore 
an expression of grave importance. 

“Your will? Well, that is, indeed, a serious 
matter. Have you fully considered it ? ” 

“ Caramba ! Have I not ? En verdad , it has 
long since been arranged — in here,” said the 
client, tapping his forehead, solemnly. 

“Very well, then, let us to business. Give me 
the points of the matter, and my clerk shall draw 
up the paper.” 

“Clerk? No, no! No. Por Dios! No. 
Thinkest thou that I would give such knowl- 
edge as I shall make known to the winds ? It is 
a secret, I tell thee. A secret ! ” 

“Very well, then,” answered the Judge, a 
little impatiently. He was a very busy man, 
just then enjoying a needed vacation, and he 
had little inclination for clerical work, espe- 
cially in a case like this where the interests at 
stake were, presumably, very small. He was 
doing what he did for Steenie’s sake only ; 
because the old Californian was dear to the 
child in whom he was so much interested. 
“Very well, then; let us begin. What is the 
first bequest ? ” 

“ The first ? It is the last, — first, last, and 
the whole. I wish to give everything I possess 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 183 

— that is Santa Trinidad — to the most adorable 
Doha Steenie Calthorp.” 

“ Indeed ? You are generous. What is Santa 
Trinidad ? ” 

“ It is a mountain. It was part of Santa 
Felisa Rancho, when San’ Felis’ was greater 
than now, and belonged to the family of Vives, 
yes.” 

“It is valuable ? ” 

For a moment the eye of the old man gleamed 
craftily ; then he asked : “ Must thou know 
that ? ” 

“ As you please.” 

Sutro considered. By nature he was not very 
secretive, and of lesser matters he was as sure 
to babble as to breathe ; but this was different. 
He held, or believed that he held, knowledge of 
utmost importance ; and he had seen enough of 
property dealings among the — to him — new 
possessors of his old California to understand 
that it was just the ' knowledge which would 
make them defraud him if they could. Lord 
Plunkett had seemed an honest man ; yet it was 
such as Lord Plunkett who had usurped the 
broad acres once belonging to his own race and 
people. However, he must trust somebody. 
He must have help. 


184 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Caramba! Wilt thou, Senor Juez, swear — 
Ijor Dios — that thou wilt not betray me ? That 
I can trust thee ? ” 

“You can trust me entirely, but I will not 
swear ; for I give my oath to no man,” answered 
the Judge, becoming interested. 

For a full half-minute Sutro stared fixedly into 
the face of his new friend ; then, reading in that 
noble countenance nothing but good-will and 
uprightness, he plunged into his subject with a 
recklessness which hid nothing, either of knowl- 
edge or imagination. “ La Trinidad is a cloven 
mountain. Its inhabitants are rattlesnakes, who, 
poor beasts, the Americans fear. Not so Span- 
iards and men of sense — not even Indians ; a 
thousand times not so old Sutro. Why ? Be- 
cause I understand, can meet them without peril ; 
and because they are the guards to treasure untold. 
No man knows it save Sutro Vives — and now 
thou ; but the heart of La Trinidad is a heart of 
— ” The testator rose from his chair, his face 
thrilled by excitement, and placing his lips to the 
Judge’s ear, hissed one word therein. 

“ What is that you say ? ” 

Sutro repeated the whisper. 

“ What ! Man alive ! Do you mean it ? Do 
you know this to be true ? ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 185 

“As I know that the sun shines now. En 
verdad.” 

“What proof have you?” 

“ This.” Sutro unfastened his buckskin vest, 
and opened a leathern bag which depended from 
his swarthy neck. “Believest thou now ? ” 

“ I believe what I see, always. But that this 
came from Santa Trinidad, how am I to know 
that ? ” 

“ Humph ! A caballero may lie, yes ; but not 
where he loves as I love Dona Steenie. Sawest 
thou ever a child like her ? Eyes of such clear 
truthfulness ? Lips so loving and so sweet ? 
Face so bonny? Ways so — not- to-be-resisted ? 
And heart so pure ? No, a thousand times. She 
is one — alone. She is under the especial charge 
of Heaven. She is worth all — all. If the whole 
of California were mine I would give it her, and 
know it were well given. I would so, yes ! ” 
x^nd warmed by his own theme, the old man left 
his chair and paced 'the room, gesturing elo- 
quently, as is the custom of his race. 

Judge Courtenay's interest increased ; but, at 
that moment, it centred less in the bequest than 
in the beneficiary. “ I agree with you, Senor 
Vives, that there is something 6 not-to-be-resisted ’ 
about this 4 Little Lady of the Horse,’ as you say 


186 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

you Westerners call her; but still I cannot help 
wondering how she has gained your devotion so 
entirely.” 

“How? Listen and thou shalt learn. When 
the good Dios sent her into this world Sutro 
Vives was a miserable old man, — even then. 
He had been wronged — wronged — wronged — 
till his heart was hard and bitter. He had lost 
faith in everything, below and above ; and he 
kept Santa Trinidad in spite of everybody, — 
because its serpent-infested rocks were a menace 
to the world. From them he meant to take his 
revenge. He used to carry them, the snakes, 
down to the hacienda , and place them where 
they would do the most harm. It was the only 
joy left. 

“ One day — the day they buried the poor 
Senora Calthorp — he carried a creature bigger, 
more venomous than any other. He turned it 
loose on the threshold of Santa Felisa, and sat 
down to w r atch. By-and-by, a little thing, all 
soft and white, came creeping, creeping through 
the doorway, and spied the serpent, yes. It was 
pretty, too, and soft ; but it was not white nor 
good. The wicked Sutro watched. Santa Maria 
watched also. The little fingers went out and 
touched the reptile, and the Mother of God 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 187 

touched a wicked heart. In a second — before 
the beautiful head of the serpent could rear itself 
— la criaturita [the baby girl] was in the old 
man’s arms. Did she hate him, no? Gracias 
a Dios [Thanks be to God] ! — she folded her 
own little arms about his neck and buried her 
rose-leaf face against his ugly face ; and the 
demon of hate and murder left him. Si ! That 
is the tale.” 

It was a moving one. Judge Courtenay was 
not the man to resist its influence ; nor did he 
ever thereafter doubt one assertion of Sutro 
Vives where Steenie was concerned. The love 
that is rooted in superstition is love that lasts. 

“Well, I will draw up the document for you 
as carefully as possible. But the inheritor is a 
minor. She must have some one appointed to 
act for her until lawfully able to act for her- 
self ; in case your demise occurs prior to that 
time.” 

This suggestion had a legal sound about it that 
captivated Sutro’ s ears ; and he gathered enough 
of its meaning to reply : “ I understand. If I 
die, it is the Senor Calthorp and Kentucky Bob 
who will carry out my desires, no? But I do 
not wish to die first. I wish to live, I myself.” 

“ Yes — yes ! We all wish that.” 


188 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ And must I die that my little one may get 
the good of Santa Trinidad ? ” 

“ There is nothing to prevent your giving it to 
her now, while you are still alive ; but a ‘ last 
will and testament' implies the death of the 
testator before action is taken upon it.” Then 
Judge Courtenay went on to explain, as simply 
and briefly as he could, the various methods by 
which Sutro Vives could benefit his favorite ; and 
the old Spaniard did the best he could to com- 
prehend. 

But gradually a belief came into Sutro’ s mind, 
and fixed itself there, that if he died she would 
be better off. Because while he lived nobody 
would care to spend the necessary money to 
investigate the discovery he claimed, — mining 
being a most expensive business ; but if he were 
dead, Steenie’s guardians or trustees might do so 
for her benefit in justice to their ward. 

Poor Sutro ! It was a bitter notion, and one 
that made his face grow pale as he contemplated 
it. He did n’t want to die ; he loved life dearly 
— dearly ! Even at this strange East, where it 
rained whenever it felt like it, and not at stated 
seasons when people were prepared for it and 
duly expectant — as at San’ Felisa, — even here, 
and with disagreeable Resolved Tubbs “ to boot,” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 189 

existence had many pleasures, — not the least 
among these being Mary Jane’s excellent cookery. 
To die — to put himself forever out of the reach 
not only of the Little Un, but of Mazan to whom 
he had hoped to be reunited, and of delicious 
chicken-patties, all at one fell swoop — that was 
too much ! 

“Very w T ell, then. I will delay the evil day, 
no ? They are not suffering now ; and if this 
thousand dollars is not paid yet — why, when it 
falls due, there will still be time ! En verdad . Is 
it not so, Senor Juez ? ” 

“ I do not understand you, Caballero ; but if 
you have finished your directions I will put aside 
these notes for the present. The will shall be 
duly drawn up and read to you ; when, if satis- 
factory, it can be attested b} r your own chosen 
witnesses. It is about time for me to take my 
second lesson in colt training ; and before I go, 
I want to ask you if you have heard the Calthorp 
family speak of this great bank failure, which 
has ruined so many ? ” 

“ Have I not ? Si ? Is it not that which has 
prompted, this day so soon, the iestamento ? That, 
but for this sudden poverty, I could have post- 
poned till some far away manana [future]. Senor 
Tubbs says that my people have become poor — 


190 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

poor — poor. My Senor Cal thorp goes into his 
room and broods and broods ; and Senora, the 
Madam, she smiles, — but with pale lips and 
heavy eyes. Ah, it is cruel, cruel ! I do not 
understand. I am no — what shall I say ? Here, 
in my head, it is not clear to comprehend this 
‘ business ’ of the Americans, I. It was that 
‘ business ’ which was wrong when Santa Felisa 
Rancho passed from my family to other men. It 
is ‘ business ’ again, — a ‘ bank,’ which is worst of 
all, — and, lo ! to-day our pockets burst with 
the gold, to-morrow they hold not a coin. Por 
Dios ! It is all wrong — ” 

The Judge listened gravely. The flying rumors 
he had heard were confirmed by Sutro’s state- 
ment. He had known, all along, that his old 
friends would be losers to some extent by this 
failure ; but the fact that it involved their all was 
new to him and very painful. How to assist 
them would be the question. The legal advice he 
could give them would be theirs without the ask- 
ing; but if the reports were wholly true, they 
would need something besides legal advice to put 
the bread into their mouths. 

“Papa! Are you never coming? We were 
as good as we could be, yesterday ; but we were 
better to day ! And we were let off from study 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 191 

five minutes before the eleven o'clock. Come, 
please! Won’t you? I want to see you and 
Diablo take your lesson, now Steenie and I have 
done.” 

Beatrice’s interruption was a pleasant relief to 
the sombre thoughts of both lawyer and client ; 
and Diablo’s owner answered, promptly, “ Oh ! 
oh ! That is all, is it ? Revenge ? You wish to 
see somebody else suffer the torture which the 
last two hours have been to you ? Eh ? For 
lessons and torture are synonyms in your book- 
hating mind, I fancy, my daughter.” 

“ Now, Papa Courtenay ! ’Xcuse me, but it ’s 
no such thing. You’re teasing me. And I 
should n’t think it hard work just to play with 
a colt ! ” 

“ Should you not ? Unless I mistake my val- 
iant small girl, entirely, I think it would take a 
deal of persuasion to make her exchange even her 
dull lessons for mine ! ” 

At which playful irony Beatrice pouted, then 
laughed good-naturedly. She had now no ambi- 
tion horseward* beyond riding a very gentle old 
pony at odd times; but she did enjoy the spec- 
tacle of others doing that which she feared. 

“ And how about you, Miss Steenie ? Are you 
anxious to resume your ‘ teaching ’ ? ” 


192 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Oh, yes, sir ! I am a’most hungry to see 
Diablo ! I told Papa ’bout him ; an’ he said, 

‘ Then you ’re happy, dearie ! ’ and I am. Horses 
are so dear and lovely. They are so — so — what 
is it when you love anything and it loves you 
back ? ” asked Steenie, who had slipped her hand 
into one of Judge Courtenay’s, while his own 
little daughter held fast to the other. 

“ Responsive maybe the word. But what is 
Sir Tito being brought along for ? Is he to be 
introduced to Diablo?” 

“ Ye-es. But that wasn’t the first, the truly 
why. I — I have ■ — there ’s something I want 
to ask you, by-and-by. That is, do you own 
that big race-track over yonder, as Sutro 
says ? ” 

“ Yes. I had it prepared for speeding my own 
horses ; but some of the neighbors use it also. I 
am anxious to increase the interest, hereabouts, 
in well-bred stock, and so we have trials on it 
occasionally. By the way, there is to be a pub- 
lic affair soon. The very best horses in the 
county are entered for the contest, — prizes, and 
so forth. I am quite anxious and doubtful over 
the result; for, till now, my black filly Trix 
has carried everything before her. But Doctor 
Gerould, of South Knollsboro, has just bought 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 193 

the famous Mordaunt, and I fear my lady Trix 
will be hard pushed this time.” 

“ Is n’t it funny, Steenie ? My mama says 
that Papa would rather win that race than the 
biggest 1 case ’ that ever was ! She says live 
horses are his hobby-horses, ’at he rides to 
death ! ’Cause she says ’at a’ most every rich 
man finds out some way to use money foolishly, 
an’ Papa’s way is the goodest way there is, 
maybe.” 

“ Come, come,, Miss Beatrice ! Retailing family 
affairs for a stranger’s benefit ? ” asked the father, 
pinching his little girl’s cheek, roguishly. 

“ Steenie an’ Sutro are n’t strangers, are they ? 
They ’re just — us, I thought.” 

“ ‘ Just us ’ — quite right. But here we are! 
Now, my fine fellow, look out for yourself ! ” 

a I ’ll go in first with this halter, please. Then 
you can come when I call you,” said the small 
mistress of ceremonies, and vaulted over the 
paling, lightly and joyou'sly. 

There was no pretence about the sincerity of 
her pleasure. Her sparkling eyes and dimpling 
face declared that without words ; and, to his 
utter amazement, J udge Courtenay saw that the 
pleasure was mutual, for, instead of showing 
fear or resentment, or any trace of forgetfulness, 
13 


194 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

up marched Diablo, with all the eagerness in the 
world, and extended his handsome nose with a 
neigh of salutation. 

“ Well — well — well ! Has the age of mira- 
cles returned ? ” exclaimed the observer, almost 
unable to believe his own eyes. 

But when Diablo’s friendliness was forced to 
extend to himself, and when, after an hour or 
two of a “ lesson ” which the gray-haired pupil 
enjoyed beyond expression, he was able to lead 
the u unbreakable brute ” quietly out of the 
paddock to the “ track,” his delight knew no 
bounds. 

“ Upon my word, my little lady, I am your 
debtor to a very great extent. I am ready to 
give you anything you ask ! ” 

“ Huyler’s ! ” suggested Beatrice, in an eager 
whisper. “ Ask him for 4 Huyler’s ’ — do ! ” 

“ No conspiracy ! What ’s that you ’re whis- 
pering, missy ? ” 

“ Now, Papa ! You said tf anything,’ and I 
thought — candy.” 

“ Is 4 Huyler’s ’ candy ? Pooh ! I don’t care 
for that. I want you to do something, though, 
Beatrice. Will you?” 

“ Course. What ? ” 

“Let me show you how to ride. On my own 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 195 

Tito, that nobody ever rode but me, that could 
be helped, that — Ob, you know ! ” 

"Why? What for ? ” 

“ ’Cause. Won’t you ? ” 

“ Will he run away ? ” 

“ He never did such a mean thing in all his 
darling life ! Swing her up, dear Sutro, please ! ” 
Sutro lifted Beatrice, who uttered a little 
squeal, half of terror, half of pleasure, and 
placed her squarely on Steenie’s own comfort- 
able saddle. Then followed “ lesson two,” while 
the Judge continued his own experiments in 
horse-training on another part of the course. 
At the close of which, all came gayly together 
at the entrance, and not a face showed any care, 
— not even Sutro’s, who had now relegated to 
that convenient “ manana ” of his, the time 
when he should “ die.” 

“ Really, little Steenie, can I not serve you in 
some practical way ? I wish to do so most 
heartily,” asked the 'master of Rook wood, 
gratefully. 

“ Yes, sir. You can give me some advice. 1 
mean if you will,” answered she. 

“ Heigho ! my practice is increasing ! ” thought 
the legal magnate. Aloud he said : “To the best 
of my ability.” 


196 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ I want to earn some money. I want to show 
other little girls how to ride, same as I showed 
Beatrice, here. An’ maybe to teach other folks 
horses, too, like Diablo. ’Cause we ’re e ruined,’ 
Grandmother says ; an’ she ’s an old lady, an’ my 
father ’s blind, an’ — an’ — Can I ? ” 

“ Wh-e-ew ! You baby, you ! ” 

A hurt, indignant flush rose into Steenie’s 
eager face, and her lip trembled. 

“ There, there ! My dear child ! It was only 
astonishment — admiration — which made me 
say that ! Don’t misunderstand me. You can 
do anything — anything — which you set out to 
do, you — you — brave little thing ! ” 

With that the Judge wheeled sharply round, 
and tears gathered in somebody’s eyes, but not 
in Steenie’s. 


CHAPTER XIII. 



Y dear, suppose 
you let our friend 
Sutro, here, ride 
home and tell 
your people that I am 
going to keep you for 
dinner ? Then they 
will not be anxious, 
^ and we will have 
leisure to consider this mat- 
ter thoroughly. What do 


you 


The Judge’s 


SUTKU. . 11* n, 

tone, addressing bteeme, 
was as grave an considerate as if she had been 
Madam Calthorp herself, and it restored her 
wounded pride at once. 

Nobody likes being laughed at, least of all a 
child, about whose earnestness there is never 
any pretence. “ Baby ” had been a hard word 
for ambitions ears to hear. 

“ Thank you. I should be as glad as glad to 
stay ! If — my grandmother said I was never 


198 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

to ’trude upon your ‘ family life ; ’ that just 
'cause you asked me to study with Beatrice, I 
must n’t forget an’ be too — something or other. 
It meant I must n’t go round an’ be a ‘ noo- 
sance,’ like Sutro is to Mr. Tubbs.” 

“ ‘ Noosance ’ ! She could n’t be a ‘ noosance,’ 
could she, Papa Courtenay ? ” cried Beatrice, 
dancing gayly about her friend, delighted with 
the prospect of a visit. 

“ Never,” responded the Judge, cordially. 
“ Senor Vives, it is settled, then. Please convey 
my regards to Madam Calthorp and her son, and 
say to them that I will give myself the pleasure 
of calling upon them toward nightfall, and will 
bring this little girl with me. Your own affair 
— the legal document — shall, also, be duly 
arranged. Good day.” 

“ I have the happiness to salute thee, Senor 
Juez. In verity, I am proud of the honor done 
my little one. I will discharge thy message 
immediately. Ten thousand thanks. Adios .” 
With the lightness of youth the old Spaniard 
sprung upon Tito’s back, doffed his sombrero, 
bowed profoundly, and rode cheerfully away. 

“ How funny ! It’s a side-saddle, too,” said 
Beatrice. 

“ Yes. But that makes no difference to my 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 199 

caballero. He can ride in any way on any 
animal, and always well. My father says he 
is a wonderful old man ; but he does n’t seem 
any older hi me, I think. He ’s very good 
an’ dear. My grandmother says ’at Sutro is 
worth everything to my father now, in his 
blindness.” 

u I should think so, indeed ! And now for 
dinner. After that — for a talk about this 
teaching business. A race to the house ! Here 
we go ! And a box of that coveted ‘ Huyler’s ’ 
to the winner ! Step — step — step ! One — 
two — three ! Off ! ” Away flashed the gay 
frocks, up and down flew the little black-stock- 
inged legs, and long before the Judge had 
covered half the distance, the children sat cuddled 
together on the piazza-step, hugging each other 
in the exuberance of their love and happiness. 
“ It ’s so puffectly nice to have a little girl, 
same ’s me ! ” cried Steenie, ecstatically. “ I 
used to have the ‘ boys ’ an' nobody else. I 
didn’t know ’bout girls, then, an’ the ‘ boys’ 
are dear as dear ! But I like girls, now I ’ve 
seen ’em, — some girls.” 

“ Me ? Do you like me ? ” 

“ Course I do. Was n’t I just telling you ? 
Say, would you like to ride in a circus?” 


200 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“My — sake! No! Would you?” 

“ Course. I have, — lots of times.” 

“ Why — Steenie — Cal thorp ! Where ? When ? 
How ? Who let you ? ” 

“ Out home. Santa Felisa. Ever so many 
whens. Last one, just before we came away ; 
to show the Plunketty man — Lord — what his 
own ranchmen could do. My father let me. 
Course.” 

“ Was he nice ? ” 

“Who?” 

“The Plunketty man-lord. What is a man- 
lord, any way ? ” 

“ Think I did n’t say it right. I mean lord- 
man. That is an Englishman. My father says 
he can’t find land enough in their little bit o’ 
island to buy, so he came to California an’ bought 
San’ Felisa. But he did n’t come again for 
twelve years, a’most. An’ I never saw him, an’ 
then I did ; an’ he did n’t wear a cor’net at all ! 
And he laughed like anything when I told him 
what Suzan said. An’ he ’xplained beautiful. 
He does have the cor’net, but he does n’t have it 
for himself. It ’s his houses’. An’ sometimes 
the women of 6 his house ’ wear it, when they 
‘want to make a stunnin’ show of theirselfs.’ 
But mostly they ‘ have more sense,’ an’ leave it 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 201 

where it b’longs, ’mongst the family plates an’ 
‘ gew-gaws.’ That ’s what he told me,” 

“Gew-gaws? Ginger! Was he a really, 
truly, lively^ lord ? Was he ? ” 

“ Live as anything. Live as you. Live as me 
or your papa. But, Beatrice, you should n’t say 
‘ ginger.’ My grandmother says it ’s not c’rect 
to use ’spressions.” 

“ But there is — ginger ! The cook puts it in 
molasses-cake. So there ! ” 

“ Well. It ’s c’rect enough to eat, I s’pose. 
But little gentlewomen should show they ’s little 
gentlewomen by their languages. So my grand- 
mother says, an’ she knows. ’Cause she knows 
everything in this whole world.” 

“ She could n’t ! She is n’t big enough. My 
papa says nobody knows everything. An’ he 
talks mostest ’bout grammar, not gentlewomens. 
He would n’t let you say ‘ hisself ’ or ‘ theirselfs,’ — 
I mean if he could help it. ’Cause he would n’t 
me. An’ I know better ’n you, you see, ’cause 
I ’ve been teached longer.” 

“Well, I s’pose you do. Though my grand- 
mother ’s c’rected me lots o’ times ’bout them 
very same words. I — Only I forget. My 
forgettery is always easier ’n my memory. Is n’t 
yours? An’ anyhow I don’t know anything, 


202 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

’cept ’bout horses. But I know more ’bout them 
’an I could tell you 4 in a month o’ Sundays.’ ” 

“ How long is a ‘ month o’ Sundays ? ’ When 
does it come ? Before Christmas ? ” 

“I don’t know. Mary Jane knows. She 
talks ’bout it. An’ it comes — why it must 
come any time ! ’Cause when Mr. Resolved 
goes to market she tells him not to be a 6 month 
o’ Sundays,’ or she can’t get the dinner cooked 
in time. And — lots — Here ’s your papa ! Oh, 
I tell you I love him ! He ’s so dear.” 

“ You need n’t ! He is n’t yours. You can’t 
have him,” cried Beatrice, feeling her young 
heart swell with jealousy. 

“ But I can love him, can’t I ? If you could n’t 
love my father you would be funny. And, oh, 
is n’t it happy to be so glad ! Most always, any- 
how, I think this is an awful nice world. Folks 
are so cosey an’ kind.” 

“ An’ I don’t think it ’s nice one bit. You ’ll 
get the candy ; I know you will. You got here 
first ! ” 

“ Well — if I did ? Would n’t I give you half, 
— the evenest half we could measure ? S’pose I ’d 
want it if you did n’t have it too ? Say, s’pose 
they ’ll be dinner enough?” 

“ What do you mean ? Course they will.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 203 

“ Then I ’m glad. But you see they did n’t 
know 1 was coming ; an’ Mary Jane says I ’m 
the 4 beatenest eater for a little girl she ever 
saw ; ’ an’ sometimes when comp’ny comes to 
my grandmother’s she scolds, Mary Jane does. 
’Cause she says : ‘ I have enough cooked for my 
own folks, but not enough for my neighbors,’ an’ 
it makes her angry. An’ my grandmother says, 
solemn-like : ‘ Ma-ry-Ja-ne ! ’ an’ then Mary Jane 
goes in the kitchen an’ bangs things around ; an’ 
Mr. Tubbs laughs, an’ she gets madder, an’ — I 
should n’t like to make your cook feel that 
way.” 

“ Don’t you be afraid ! You can have all you 
want to eat ; an’ if they is n’t enough you can 
have mine, too. I ain’t ever hungry.” 

“ My ! Thank you. You ’re a lovely, nice 
girl. But I would n’t eat it. Why are n’t you 
hungry ? There ’s the bell ! ” 

Away they ran dinner-wards, and found the 
Judge rehearsing to his wife the incidents of the 
morning, and evidently something of Steenie’s 
ambition ; for the lady bestowed upon the child 
a caress more cordial even than usual, and called 
her a “ dear, brave, helpful little thing.” 

There proved to be not only enough of food 
but to spare ; and when the meal was over Judge 


204 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Courtenay retired to his office with his secretary, 
while the children went into the parlor, where 
Steenie was asked to tell her hostess all about 
her desired “ riding-school,” and what had sug- 
gested it to her. 

“ It was the blacksmith made me think about 
it, when he shod Tito. He said I ‘ ought to; ’ an’ 
I s’pose maybe he knows ’bout my father being 
blind, an’ my grandmother an old lady that never 
did anything but read books, an’ they both being 
so 4 helpless,’ Mr. Tubbs says. But he, Mr. 
Resolved, thought I was 4 helpless,’ too ; only I 
don’t want to be. ’Cause I ’m not old nor blind, 
an’ I ’m strong as anything. But I don’t know 
very much, ’cept ’bout horses; an’ I do know 
’bout them, way through. So — well, you see — 
after the blacksmith talk — I thought an’ 
thought — an’ thought. First off, it made me 
dizzy — just the thinking. Then I wasn’t dizzy 
any more for being sorry — but just for glad ! 
An’ I hurried home fast as fast ; an’ there was 
my father taking a nap, ’cause he does n’t sleep 
good nights ; an’ after supper some comp’ny 
came, an’ they stayed till I went away to bed. 
Then this morning there they were again ; an’ 
they were a man an’ his clerk, or something, an’ 
my grandmother an’ my father went into the 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 205 

library an’ shut the door, so I did n’t have any 
chance to ask him. Then when I was coming 
here, I thought maybe I was glad I had n’t. 
’Cause my grandmother says your Mr. Judge is 
a terr’ble wise gentleman ; an’ I know so too. 
An’ I thought prob’ly he knew all the little girls 
an’ colts in Old Knollsboro ; an’ maybe they ’d 
like to learn to ride the right way. And the 
blacksmith said I ’d c make a fortune ’ showing 
’em. I ’d like to make it, or some money, I 
mean. Any way if I could do one thing to buy 
beefsteaks with, I ought to, had n’t I ? ’Cause 
Mr. Tubbs says, ‘ The Lord only knows how long 
any on us ’ll eat beefsteak,’ — an’ we all like it. 
Even my grandmother does. It would be awful, 
would n’t it, for an old lady like her to not have 
any more ?” 

“ Yes, my dear, it would be very bad indeed ; 
but I hope matters are not quite so serious as 
that,” answered Mrs. Courtenay, smiling. 

“Well, I don’t know, course. But Mary Jane 
says we ’d all 4 better be lookin’ out to earn an 
honest penny, those on us ’at can.’ An’ Mr., 
her brother, said she ‘ need n’t cast no ’flections 
on him, ’cause had n’t he got the lumbago, he ’d 
like to know ? ’ So, you see, it ’s just this one 
straight way: Grandmother can’t, ’cause she 


206 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

can’t, an’ she ought n’t to ; Papa can’t, ’cause he 
can’t see to do anything; Sutro can’t, ’cause he’s 
just Sutro ; Mr. Tubbs can’t, ’cause he’s a lum- 
bagorer an’ a ‘ reg’lar funeral-dark-sider,’ Mary 
Jane says ; Mary Jane can’t, ’cause her ‘ hands 
an’ heart is full every ’durin’ minute, an’ so she 
tells you ; ’ an’ so, after them, they is n’t anybody 
left but me. So I want to ; ’cause I love ’em 
— love ’em — love ’em — every one ! An’ I ’m 
young, an’ I can see, an’ I have n’t any lumbago, 
an’ I ’m nob just Sutro, an’ my hands an’ heart 
is n’t full, and — do — you s’pose I can ? ” 

“ My dear little girl, I have perfect faith that 
you can ! — providing that your people will con- 
sent,” answered Mrs. Courtenay, with the most 
confident of smiles, and very shining eyes. 

“ Why shouldn’t they consent? Wouldn’t 
they be the most gladdest they could be ? ’Cause 
I ’d give them the money, an’ they could buy the 
things.” 

“ Who told you about ‘ money,’ and money- 
earning, Steenie?” asked the lady, somewhat 
curiously, wondering how a child brought up “ in 
the wilderness” had learned its value. 

“ Why, Sutro. I asked him what it meant to 
be ‘ ruined,’ an’ he told me. He ’s ruined, him- 
self, he says ; anyhow he ’s lost his home, same 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 207 

as Grandmother ’ll have to lose hers ; an’ he says 
that he had to go to work an’ earn money, an’ 
that was why he did n’t ‘ starve to death, en 
verdad ! ’ I should think it would be dreadful 
to starve to death, should n’t you ? ” 

“I certainly should.” 

“ You see Sutro — I don’t know ’xactly how it 
was. But when I was as little as little, my father 
told Sutro ’at if he ’d tend to me an’ not let any- 
thing bad ever happen to me, he ’d pay Sutro 
money. Wages, it ’s called. So they did it ; an’ 
Sutro was my body-servant forever after that. 
Papa paid him every month, ’cause it was n’t the 
Plunkett man’s money at all. An’ Sutro has 
saved it. An’ I don’t know. He showed me 
most of it ’at he had n’t spended ; an’ it does 
seem funny that folks ’ll give you food an’ 
clothes an’ things just for it ; but he says yes. 
An’ if I earn, an’ he helps me, don’t you see ? 
Oh, I hope they will let me, don’t you ? ” 

“I — hardly know. X wish you to be happy 
with all my heart ; and so I mean that you shall 
succeed — if they are willing. But they are a 
proud family, — the very leading family of Old 
Knollsboro ; and they may feel it — well, not 
just the thing for the little daughter of the 
house to teach even a ‘ riding-school.’ But 


208 TIIE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

we ’ll see. By the way, where would you like to 
hold your school ? Tell me all that you have 
thought about it, please.” 

“ Why, on your race-course. Why not ?” asked 
Steenie, brightly and innocently. 

“ Why, Steenie Calthorp ! My papa’s race- 
track is my papa’s ! He won’t let anybody, 
’cept them he invites, go on it, not once at all. 
He says it’s private, for his own ’musement, an’ 
if folks want tracks let ’em have their own. He 
would n’t let other little girls, ’cept you an’ me, 
ride their ponies there, ever; would he, Mama?” 

“ I cannot answer for another, even your 
father, my dear. But I think that some fitting 
place could be found,” replied the mother, quietly. 

Steenie looked up quickly. Her big blue eyes 
were filled with astonishment, and a pink flush 
stole deeper and deeper into her pretty face. Her 
native instinct, the instinct of a gentlewoman, 
told her that she had blundered in some way, 
yet she could not see how. If Judge Courtenay 
was her friend, — why, he was ! — and that was 
the end of it. Why should he draw the line 
anywhere ? 

“ Please, Mrs. Courtenay, was I ’truding then ? 
Grandmother said I was never to do that. She 
said I had lived in a beau-tiful big, big place like 


TIIE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 209 

Santa Felisa, an’ I was used to being mistress of 
everything ; but I was to ’member that here, in 
this little bit o’ Old Knollsboro, I was only a 
little bit o’ girl. But if the dear Judge doesn’t 
want me to use his course, why I can find a 
place, somewhere, big enough. I guess maybe 
the blacksmith can tell me. He was a very 
nice man, too.” 

Mrs. Courtenay watched the troubled little face 
grow bright and sunny again, and then she sent 
the children out to play; after which an elegant 
carriage was brought round, and a groom in livery 
assisted the lady into it, and lifted Beatrice to a 
place beside her. But Steenie needed no assis- 
tance, and was quite contented when the Judge 
took the empty seat next her, and she heard 
the order given, “ To Madam Calthorp’s, High 
Street.” 

It was a gay and happy party, and they carried 
their own good cheer with them into the care- 
shadowed home which they entered, — the greet- 
ings of the elders being even more cordial and 
sympathetic than ever, could that have seemed 
possible. 

Nothing, not even heart-break, could make 
Madam Cal thorp other than the noble, gracious 
woman she had always been ; and no sign of the 
14 


210 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

burden she was bearing was permitted to inflict 
itself upon her guests. Yet even her self-reliant 
spirit gained fresh courage from the support of 
these friends whom she held in such high esteem ; 
and she was delicately forced to remember that 
the Judge would be honored if she would make 
use of him in any way. 

“ Yes, Steenie, show Beatrice anything. And 
you will find some roses in the garden, the sort 
her mother likes. Thank you; but, Judge, such 
things are usually very simple. I have had one 
of the bank men here over night. There is 
nothing left, absolutely, bej^ond my trifling 
amount of real estate. 1 shall put this house 
on the market, and dispose of it as speedily as 
possible. I have already written to accept an 
offer which I had for the little farm ; and — 
that is all. If you hear of a small cottage any- 
where in town, that is not in an objectionable 
neighborhood, will you kindly let me know ? 
And now — let us talk about your horses. I ’m 
sure that Daniel will enjoy a description of them. 
He is quite a horse-lover, though not like Steenie 
— all horse ! Did you ever know a taste so 
marked ? It amounts almost to a passion with 
her ; due to her training at Santa Felisa, I sup- 
pose. Well, it has made her a perfectly healthy 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 211 

and wonderfully happy child. I am grateful to 
the odd rearing for that much, at least.” 

“ And for much more ! — that is, you may be ! ” 
returned the Judge, impulsively. His heart was 
still glowing warmly with thoughts of Steenie’s 
brave desire, and the words escaped him almost 
unconsciously. 

“ Indeed ! How so ? I fear that even her 
last intercourse with the equine race is about 
over for poor little Steenie.” 

“ It should not be. No, no ; it must not be ! 
— that would be a crime. Let me tell you, 
please,” and the gentleman described, far more 
minutely and eloquently than the little girl had 
done, her marvellous influence over Diablo, and 
her instruction of himself. He concluded en- 
thusiastically : “ It is her gift — Heaven-sent ! 
She is the best friend the horse ever had, I 
believe. And that child’s beneficent influence 
is destined to work a complete revolution, here- 
abouts, in the future treatment of the noble 
animals. It is as if she had a magical power of 
entering into their very feelings, inclinations, 
joys, and sufferings. I never witnessed anything 
like it ! Yet the only explanation she can give 
is : 4 It is n’t anything I do. I don’t know how 
to explain it — only I just love them so ! ’ My 


212 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

dear Madam, your grandchild is a phenomenon. 
Better than that — she is the bravest, noblest 
little creature who ever lived.” 

“ Judge, Judge! You are too enthusiastic, 
and too kind ! ” answered Steenie’s amazed grand- 
mother. 

“ Enthusiastic, perhaps ; but I could not be too 
kind to a child like that. It is an honor to serve 
her. She has taught me, not only what a fool 
I have been about horses, but how to meet 
trouble, disaster. Listen to this : here is her 
idea — that baby’s ! ” 

Launched upon his subject, Judge Courtenay 
poured out the whole story. Steenie’s half- 
formed plans had taken full shape and detail 
under the consideration of his own maturer 
mind, and not only this, but he had actually de- 
cided, mentally, upon the children to be selected 
for her first pupils. He could not see one good 
reason why the project was not wholly feasible, 
with Sutro and himself to “ back ” it with age 
and experience. 

“ She shall have the course at Rookwood for 
ordinary weather ; and I will have a great build- 
ing erected for stormy days. I know several 
persons who have valuable colts, and they will 
gladly avail themselves of her gentle method of 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 213 

‘ breaking in.' They shall pay her well, too ! 
The school terms we will regulate by those of 
city riding-schools ; and she shall have the use of 
as many of my horses as is necessary, besides 
her own Tito. That old Sutro is just the fellow 
to assist ; and my grooms shall do the rough 
work.” 

“ Pardon me, Judge, but it appears to me as if 
this were to be your school, — not my little 
daughter’s ! ” exclaimed Mr. Calthorp, smilingly. 

“ All right — all right ! Make it so, then ! 
Let it be my institution, and she my salaried in- 
structor. Why not ? That is an improvement 
upon the original plan, — decidedly an improve- 
ment. People will be less inclined to shirk their 
tuition fees to me, a grim old lawyer, maybe, 
than to her. Yet I think she would never lose 
a penny. How could she, — if men and women 
are human?” 

Mrs. Courtenay had been observing their host- 
ess, and interrupted, gently : “ My dear, you are 
taking for granted the consent of Steenie’s guar- 
dians. However, I trust it will not be wanting.” 
The speaker noticed, regretfully, that the chil- 
dren had returned, and that the little subject of 
the discussion was standing on the threshold of 
the room, her lithe young body eagerly poised 


214 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HOUSE. 

and her eyes intently watching her grandmother’s 
face for the answer forthcoming, which was 
made speedily and courteously, but it struck 
upon Steenie’s heart with intolerable cruelty. 

“ Thank you, cordially, my dear friend. Your 
generous kindness is fully appreciated — fully. 
But I have already reached a more practical de- 
cision, — one which will put more money, even, 
into Steenie’s pocket than this chimerical, if un- 
selfish scheme of hers could ever do. We will 
sell Tito. Do you know of a purchaser ? ” 

In the silence which followed this unexpected 
suggestion, Steenie heard her own heart beat. 
Then she bounded into the centre of the room, 
white with fear and indignation. 

“ Grandmother ! Sell — my — Tito ! ” 

“ Yes, darling. We can no longer afford to 
keep him.” 

“ You must n’t ! You must n’t ! It would 
break his very heart ! I ’d rather you ’d sell 


CHAPTER XIV. 



. OR a time nobody 
said anything 
more. Then 
|\\}VT\^A s x Madam Cal thorp 

k \ vdLK \ \ resumed, but in 

a very kindly and sym- 
pathetic tone : “ Yes, my 
darling, we can no longer in- 
dulge in any luxury.” 

Steenie found courage to 
speak again. “I don’t know 
what that is. But Tito isn’t 
a 4 luxury,’ is he ? He ’s just 
a dear, darling little horse ! ” 

“ Which, under our changed circumstances, 
means that he is a luxury, as well.” 

“ You must n’t ! You shall not ! You dare 
not ! He ’s mine — mine — mine ! ” 

“ Steenie ! ” said the father, in a pained voice, 
and opening his lips for the first time. 

The child flew to him in a passion of tears. 
66 She can’t — she — she — He ’s folks ! He 


‘POOR MR. TUBBS. 


216 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

cant be sold. It would — break — his very — 
heart ! ” 

Touched by the distress of her little friend, 
Beatrice grew angry and resentful also, and 
darted to her own father, who put his arm about 
her and kissed her, glad of anything upon which 
to vent his emotion ; for it must be owned that 
the big, wise man was almost as vexed and un- 
comfortable as the two children were. 

Mrs. Courtenay walked over to the bay-window 
and examined an album of etchings, trying, but 
failing, to appear at ease. To all present it was 
a very unpleasant scene. 

Yet there was no disputing the plain common- 
sense of Madam Cal thorp’s decision, who, it is 
also true, had no real conception of the strength 
of the bond between the child and her beloved 
four-footed friend, her only playmate during all 
her little life. 

Steenie had parted from Tito at Santa Felisa, 
bravely and cheerfully as she could, “ for Papa’s 
sake ; ” but she had believed it to be a parting 
for a time, merely. She had then full faith in 
the cure of her father’s blindness, which was to 
be effected by some unknown physician in an 
equally unknown “ East ; ” and she had looked 
forward to a joyful return and reunion, when 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 217 

everything and everybody was to be even happier 
than before. 

Now she knew better what “ trouble ” meant ; 
and to part with Tito forever seemed like cutting 
her own heart in two. 

“ Steenie, my granddaughter ! Do not forget 
that there are others present to whom an exhibi- 
tion of domestic misunderstanding must be most 
disagreeable. You may take the basket of sea- 
shells into the dining-room, if you like, and show 
them to Beatrice.” 

“ I don’t care about sea-shells, ma’am,” re- 
sponded Beatrice, with what she considered 
great politeness. 

“ An’ — an’ — please ’xcuse me ! ” said Steenie, 
tremulously, and ran out of the house, stable- 
ward, faster than even her fleet feet had ever 
sped before. 

Mrs. Courtenay rose, “ I think, Judge, that 
it is really time we should go. T have an- 
other call to make, and it is growing late. I 
hope, dear madam, that you are satisfied with 
Steenie’s progress under Miss Allen. She tells 
me that the little thing is very bright at her 
studies.” 

“ Thank you ; fully satisfied. Yes, I think, I 
am sure that our little girl has intelligence ; only 


218 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

her instruction has heretofore been so deficient, — 
in every way. I trust you will pardon her rude- 
ness, and expect better things of her by-and-by. 
She has been a trifle spoiled, I fear. How- 
ever, I believe that she will make rapid ad- 
vancement after she is once well started. And 
pray do not think, Judge, that because I found 
your ‘ riding-school ’ too big a venture for a 
child not yet eleven to undertake, that I do 
not estimate your own unselfish motive most 
highly. It simply — could not be.” Madam 
Calthorp’s smile as she said this was very bright 
and very proud. 

“ That ’s it ! It ’s the miserable Calthorp pride 
that is at the bottom of it ! ” muttered the Judge, 
as he rode away. “ The father had more sense ; 
he saw no objection to our idea any more than I 
do, or any other sensible person could. It is 
an original scheme, of course ; but where would 
the world be if it were not for original people 
now and then ? The child has a talent — a genius 
— in a unique line. Well, then, why not develop 
it, — same as music, art, or any other great gift ? 
And she ’d be perfectly safe, — I ’d see to that ; 
they must have known it.” 

“ Doubtless they did ; and I know something 
else.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 219 

“ What’s that?” — a trifle shortly. It does 
not improve the temper of most people to 
have their generosity declined, and the Judge 
was no exception to the rule. 

“ That you will buy Tito, if he must be sold, 
and keep him at Rookwood for his own little 
mistress.” 

“ Or for me, Mama, maybe.” 

“ No, dear Beatrice, for Steenie. Surely you 
do not wish to take her beloved horse away from 
her?" 

“ No, course I don’t ; but, you see, I thought 
maybe that old Madam lady would say she 
could n’t have him. ’Cause she ’peared to me ’s 
if she liked to be kind of mis’able an’ give up 
things. Same ’s I don’t.” 

“ Beatrice ! ’’ 

“ The child is right. Madam Calthorp is a 
fine woman, but she is as proud as Lucifer. He 
had to tumble, and she will, or I’m mightily 
mistaken. It takes a very noble nature to ac- 
cept favors graciously ; and she had an idea that 
I was conferring, or trying to confer, a favor, 
which I was not at all. I think it would be the 
best thing ever happened in this locality, and to 
the dumb beasts in it, if that blessed, loving 
little thing could have a chance to preach to us 


220 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

in her innocent way. I mean she shall yet, too ! 
And I suppose that to have a little girl earn any- 
thing towards the family support was a bitter 
motion, also.” 

“ The most bitter, I think, husband. How- 
ever, we can do nothing more. But we must 
have Steenie at Rookwood as much as possible. 
If one is bound to be kind and helpful one can 
generally find a way, though not always the way 
first chosen. Remember that, Beatrice, and be 
watchful for Steenie’s happiness.” 

“ Yes, Mama, I think somebody ought to watch 
it ; ’cause herself’s bein’ comf’table is the last 
thing she cares about.” 

“ That ’s right, my darling,’’ said the mother, 
fondly, as she alighted to pay her second call, 
and thinking very tenderly of the other little girl 
who had never known the sweetness of a mother’s 
commendation. 

Meanwhile, at the house in High Street, a few 
earnest words had been said by blind Daniel Cal- 
thorp, which touched, if they did not convince, 
the proud heart of its mistress. 

“ The scheme is not as wild as it seems, dear 
mother. If you could see my darling among her 
friends, the horses, you would understand.” 

“But to have it said that a child — a little 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 221 

girl-child — is our maintenance ! Daniel, is it not 
absurd ? Besides, could she actually earn enough 
to amount to anything ? ” 

“ I think so. However, we will not discuss 
further to-night, — perhaps not at all. Only, if 
you think it would be difficult for you to ac- 
cept aid from the hand of a child, what do you 
think it is for me — a man ? My blindness was 
not of my own choosing ; and Steenie’s talent has 
not been given to her for nothing. Do you re- 
member what my father used to say ? ‘ God never 
shuts one door but He opens another.’ The doors 
seem to be pretty fast closed on every side our 
lives, just now, Mother.- Was this — one of His 
opening ? Let us find out that ; and — 1 ’ll go 
to Steenie now.” 

“ You need not. She comes here to you,” 
and, despite her decision, which had made her 
seem so “ hard ” and stern to her little grand- 
daughter, it was a very proud and loving glance 
which rested upon the now dejected face of the 
household darling. “ Come here, my little one. 
I have something to say to you.” 

Steenie obeyed ; but she did not raise her eyes 
from the floor, and her small hands were clinched 
tight together, — in a habit she had adopted to 
help “ keep the tears back.” She expected a repre- 


222 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

mand for her rudeness, and she anticipated it. “ I 
came back — ’cause — my father says — no mat- 
ter — I must n’t never — be anything but nice — 
as nice — to you. I did n’t mean you — Grand- 
mother ; not you — yourself. I — I only — 
Tito — ” 

“ Kiss me, Steenie. I understand you fully. 
I have quite forgiven anything that there is to 
forgive. I should have broken the sad news to 
you more gently if I could, but you happened 
to overhear it. What I want to tell you, now, 
dear, is that I think you are the bravest, dearest 
child I ever knew. It was a very kind desire of 
yours to help us in the only way which was natu- 
ral to your peculiar life and training ; but what 
would do in the far West would hardly answer 
here in Old Knollsboro. However, you still have 
an opportunity to be brave and kind. I have de- 
cided — I trust that your father agrees with me 
— that the first sacrifice demanded of you is — 
Tito. It is painful to me to ask it ; but it is 
right. I hope you will meet this trial in the 
same spirit which you displayed in this other im- 
practicable scheme. May I depend upon you, my 
darling ? ” 

A sob that shook her whole sturdy little body 
welled up and broke from Steenie’ s lips ; and 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 223 

though the great tears now rolled over the round 
cheeks her blue eyes were raised steadfastly and 
her dainty mouth forced itself into a smile, so 
brave and determined, yet so pitiful, that it 
pierced Madam Calthorp’s heart like a knife. 

With an impulse foreign to her self-controlled 
nature she caught her grandchild to her heart, 
and bent her white head upon the brown curls, 
while a sympathetic sob escaped her own lips. 
This was the first actual taste of the poverty 
which had befallen her household, and she found 
it bitter indeed. 

But from that moment, strange as it seemed to 
Steenie’s own self, she loved her grandmother as 
she had not done before, and felt so sorry for 
her that personal grief was almost forgotten. 

“ Now,” said Madam, lifting her head, — “ now, 
what is to be done, I want done quickly ; to me 
waiting and suspense are intolerable. We know 
that we must leave this house ; let us leave it 
as soon as possible. To-morrow I will advertise 
it for sale, and hope for a speedy purchaser. 
Fortunately, High-Street property is rarely of- 
fered, and there is always a greater demand than 
supply. Hark ! Is that the supper-bell ? ” 

“ Yes, ’m. Come, Papa, dear, I ’m hungry, any- 
how. And I gave Tito heaps and heaps. But I 


224 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

think yon ’ll have to speak to Sutro. He did n’t 

— he didn’t behave very nice. But he — felt 

— pretty mis’able, an’ — Why, Mr. Tubbs ! ” 
Mr. Tubbs, indeed ! Never within Madam Cal- 

tliorp’s memory had that worthy “ professor ” 
entered her presence in such a condition as this. 
His hair looked as if it had never been combed ; 
his spectacles were broken and dangling from his 
neck, instead of reposing respectably upon his 
bald forehead ; his coat was torn and covered 
with bits of hay ; and — must the truth be 
owmed? — one pale gray eye was bruised and 
half-hidden by the rapidly swelling flesh which 
surrounded it; worst indignity of all, he was 
being marched into the dining-room by Mary 
Jane’s forcible grip upon his shoulder, and it was 
her disgusted voice which called attention to his 
damaged condition. 

“ Yis ! I should say so ! ‘ Mis-ter Tubbs ! ’ 

Here he is ! A wolf in sheep’s clothin’ ! Him a 
Methodist an’ a class-leader ! Look at him ! 
Drink him in ! He ain’t nobody but my brother 

— oh, oh, oh ! ” 

“ Resolved ! Mary Jane ! Explain this matter 
at once. What has happened ? ” 

“ Happened, ma’am? Nothin’ but a — fight! 
A reg’lar, school-bubby actin’ up ! It ’s them two 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 225 

old simpletons, Sutro an’ Resolved. They ’ve 
always wrangled an’ jangled ever sence they fust 
sot eyes on one another. But I ’ve managed ter 
keep ’em from fisticuffin’ up till now. An’ him 
my only brother ! A shinin’ light in the church, 
he is ! Wait till I get my dishes washed, an’ 
I ’ll step down ter Presidin’ Elder Boutwell’s, an’ 
let him hear what kind o’ sperritooal goin’s on 
we have down this way ! ” 

“ But why should you and Sutro Yives quarrel, 
Resolved ? What provocation did he give you ? ” 
asked Mr. Calthorp, anxiously. 

u Nothin’ in the world! It’s my poor, sinful 
old brother here, that’s done all the prov-ockin’ ! 
A tellin’ that poor heathen old Catholic that they 
was n’t no use fer him here, no more. An’ no 
bread ter fill the mouths o’ our own household, 
let alone Mexicers. When he knowed well 
enough ’t I ’d jest done my reg’lar bakin,’ an’ 
no beautifuller never come out o’ that oven 
this hull summer, let alone more. An’ then 
pilin’ it on top o’ that, how if it had n’t a be’n 
fer him — Sutry — ’at Steenie need n’t ’a’ gin up 
her pony ! Don’t wonder old feller was mad ; 
an’ fust he knowed Resolved got a snap-word 
back — an’ then! Well, you know, ma’am, 
better ’n I kin tell ye, how quer’ls grows. Bad 
15 


226 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

tempers — sass-hatefulness — candles hid — no 
light shinin’ — an’ then — blows ! Yis, ma’am, 

— blows ! ” 

“Mary Jane ! Those two old men ! ” 

“ Nobody elset. I don’t wonder ye ’re dumber- 
foun’, I was myself. But fust whack I heered 
out I hurried an’ there they was ! Reg’lar rough 
an’ tumble, right in the hay-mow, afore Teety 
pony’s own eyes; an’ I declar’, if that knowin’ 
critter didn’t actilly ’pear ter be laughin’. An’ 
’shamed I am ter have lived ter this day ! But 

— so much fer the Methodist doctrine ! No, 
ma’am, nobody need n’t tell me ’at anything 
short o’ full ’mersion ’ll ever wash the wickedness 
out o’ poor humans like Resolved Tubbs ! No, 
ma’am, ye need n’t.” 

As Madam Cal thorp had never “ told ” any- 
thing of the sort, she could afford to smile ; and 
lamentable as the silly affair was, it yet, as a 
previous “ quer’l ” had done, served to divert the 
thoughts of the family from more serious 
troubles. 

“ Poor Mr. Tubbs ! Naughty Mr. Tubbs ! You 

— look — so funny ! ” cried Steenie, laughing. 
“ Did my bad, darling old Sutro-boy hurt your 
lumbago?” And carried away by a mental 
picture of the strange conflict, she danced about 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 227 

the victim of his own valor in a manner which 
provoked his smiles, even if it did his anger, 
also. 

“Well — well — hesh up, can’t ye? I know 

— I know as well as anybody ’t I ’d oughter be 
ashamed ; but — I — but — I — I got that riled 
I clean f ergot everything. Hm-m. The furrin’ 
vagabones ! A tellin’ — ME — ’t I ’d oughter go 
ter work an’ do sunthin’ ter help the fambly ! 
’S if I was n’t a doin’ all a mortal man could, 
now ! An’ a sayin’ ’t he ’d show me ! He ’d let 
ever’body know ’at where he gin his heart’s love 
thar he gin his mis’able airthly possessions, as 
well. He ’d show ! That tantalizin’ like, I felt 
I’d like ter ’nihilate him. I couldn’t help it. 
An’ if I did take my poor mites o’ savin’s — how 
fur w 7 ould it go towards keepin’ a hull fambly, 
an’ heathen furriners an’ circus horses, ter boot, 

— I ’d like ter know ? ” 

“No matter, Tubbs. I am profoundly sorry 
that you should have quarrelled w T ith anybody on 
our account, least of all with a poor, dependent 
old man like the Caballero. I agree with Mary 
Jane, that one who has enjoyed the privileges 
which you have, here in the East, should have 
been too wise for any such trumpery nonsense ; 
and I trust that you will duly apologize to Sutro 


228 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Vives, and make him forget, if it is possible, your 
unkind words about his being a burden upon us. 
Your zeal on our behalf is appreciated ; but 
please consult me before you give expression to it 
in the future. Enough of this. Serve supper, 
please, Mary Jane.” 

Mr. Tubbs escaped to his own apartment, a 
very astonished and self-disgusted old man. If 
anybody had prophesied to him such an utter col- 
lapse of Christian conduct, he would have scouted 
the suggestion with scorn. But here was the 
stubborn fact : he, Resolved Tubbs, a “ perfessor 
an’ a beakin light, have gone and buried my 
candle under the bushel ! Jest fer what ? ” 

Mary Jane could have told him in one word 
what it took him many hours of Bible-reading 
and self-examination to find out. “ Jealous} 7 ,” 
Mr. Tubbs, jealousy, the meanest, most obdurate 
sin that ever gets into a human soul, old or 
young, to twist it out of shape. 

“ Well — I’m glad of that ! ’Cause I ’m hun- 
gry. I always am, and I did n’t know, first off, 
whether I ’d ought to stay at Mrs. Courtenay’s ; 
but they said ‘yes,’ an’ I had a lovely time. 
Papa, are n’t rooks funny ? They ’re English, 
imported, the Judge says, and they ’re dozens an’ 
bushels an’ more, in those splendid great trees 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 229 

in the park. That’s what makes ’em call it 
Rookwood. An’ now, soon ’s I ’ve finished, I ’m 
goin’ to find my poor blessed Sutro Vives. He ’s 
been naughty, course, same’s Mr. Resolved has. 
Just like they were little boys, is n’t it? But he 
must n’t stay naughty. I could n’t ’low that, 
could I, Papa ? ’Cause he ’s very, very good 
’most always, an’ I hope Mary Jane will give 
him a nice supper. Can she, Grandmother ? 
’Cause it must be terr’ble to be told not to eat. 
I think — I think — I could do ’most anything 
else better than not eat.” 

“ I think you could, sweetheart ! But hunger 
at your age is both natural and desirable. You 
are growing very fast. I can feel that even if I 
cannot see it,” responded Mr. Cal thorp, caressing 
the curly head which rested for a moment against 
his shoulder. 

“ And when I find Sutro, I ’ll make him ’polo- 
gize to you, Grandmother ; ’cause he ought n’t 
to fight at your house, anyhow, no matter if he 
does sometimes at San’ Felisa. I s’pose he ’s 
over his anger by this time, don’t you ? I can’t 
bear to see folks angry ; it makes me shivery all 
inside, and if he is n’t I ’d rather wait.” 

“ I think you are safe, my dear ; and go at once. 
I would not have the poor old fellow feel himself 


230 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

an intruder, now, if I could help it. I fear the 
plain-spoken Tubbs was not very careful of his 
remarks.” 

Steenie departed ; and it was quite lamp-light- 
ing time before she returned, with a very troubled 
face. “ I cannot find my Sutro anywhere. I ’ve 
looked an’ looked, an’ called — called — called — 
low an’ loud — but he is n’t anywhere at all. 
And his blanket that he keeps in the hay to take 
his siesta on is gone, too. What do you s’pose, 
Papa ? ” 

“ That he probably has gone somewhere to 
walk off his anger and mortification ; and that 
he will soon be back.” 

“ It would be awful mis’able if he did n’t come 
back at all, would n’t it ? ” 

“ Yes ; too miserable to contemplate for a 
moment. Come, my darling, and sing to me 
for a little while ; then, most likely, he will 
return.” 

But, at that very moment, a solitary old man, 
in curious attire, and with a gay Navajo blanket 
folded over his shoulder, was making his way 
through the gathering twilight toward Rook- 
wood. His head was bowed, and his face hidden 
by his wide sombrero, and he moved slowly as one 
whose footsteps are hindered by a heavy heart. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 


231 


A pathetic figure which the growing gloom 
receives and hides, the humblest, and the no- 
blest, perhaps, of all those whose hearts have been 
touched by the love of the child Steenie, he 
passes thus out of the story of her life at Old 
Knollsboro. 


CHAPTER XV. 


H R. TUBBS sat 
f\\ with his spec- 
J ^ tacles in place, 
his Bible on his 
knee ; and Steenie, 
peering in at the 
kitchen-door and see- 
ing it otherwise de- 
serted, would speedily 
have retreated, had 
MR. TUBBS and steenie. she been allowed . But 

an outrageous groan from Resolved arrested her 
flight, and awoke her ready sympathy. 

6k Is it so bad, poor dear ? Is it worser ’n 
usual ? ” 

“ Oh ! Ah-h-h ! ” That sigh appeared to have 
arisen in the sigher’s very feet, it was so long 
drawn out and so unutterably doleful. “ To think 
I’d a lived ter see this day ! Man an* boy, forty 
odd years, have I been uset ter settin’ beside this 
very fire an’ a peroosin’ o' Scripters by this very 



THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 233 

winder ; an’ now — My-soul-I-declare, — life 
ain’t wuth livin’ ! ” 

“ Oh, pooh ! You only feel hypoey, Mary 
Jane says. Try an’ not think ’bout troubles so 
much, please. An’ I do think, like she does, ’at 
it ’s the queerest thing your hypoey comes 
whenever they ’s such a lot to do, isn’t it? I 
know you can’t help it, an’ it must make } r ou 
feel dreadful bad not to be able to help more ; 
but do try an’ not mind it, there *s a dear ! ” 

“ I ’ll try ; but I ain’t the man I uset ter was. 
I ’ve got the neuraligy in my head, an’ the dys- 
pepsy in my stummick,an’ the lumbago in my back, 
an’ I ain’t a good deal well. You know it, don’t ye, 
Steenie ? Ye ’re sorry fer the old man, ain’t ye ? ” 

“ Why, ye-es. But I ’m lots sorrier for all the 
rest of the folks. My father says it’s a’ most 
more than Grandmother can bear, this leaving 
her old home ; but she does n’t go ‘ Oh ! ’ and 
‘ Ah-h ! ’ over it. She just shuts her lips tight, 
an’ goes hard to work ; an’ I guess that ’s what 
you ’d better do, dear Mr. Tubbs. It seems to 
help her, an’ maybe it will you. Why, she ’s 
packed every one o’ her ‘ precious books,’ all her 
own self, without nobody touching to help her ; 
an’ Mary Jane says it ’s the best thing she could 
have done.” 


234 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Some folks hain’t no fine feelin’s, Steenie. 
Mary Jane hain’t, — I grieve ter say it.” 

“ What makes you, then ? ? 

“ Because — be-cause, I tell ye ! Here they 
ain’t nobody payin’ no ’tention ter me ; ner 
thinkin’ o’ my — ’motions, a tearin’ myself up by 
the ruts, this ’ere way ; an’ jest a goin’ on as if 
this break-up wasn’t nothin’.” 

“ Well. ’Xcuse me, but I don’t see as it is to 
— you. ’Cause it was n’t your house, see ? An’ 
the little new one is cuter than cute ! It ’s as 
cunning as a doll-house. An’ Mary Jane says, 
4 Make the best on ’t, honey, an’ thank the Lord 
it ’s in a decent neighborhood ! ’ An’ I ’m going 
to do it. Mary Jane Tubbs is a real Christian, 
my father says.” 

a Yer ‘ father says ’ — ‘ father says ’ — tacked 
onter the end o’ every verse ! Yer father don’t 
know ever’ thing!” 

“ He does, too, Resolved Tubbs ! — Mister, I 
mean. Everybody says ’at he ’s the best man in 
the world ! He can’t see a single thing, yet he’s 
going to work an’ try an’ write down, all in the 
dark, all ’at he knows ’bout managing a great 
rancho ; an’ Judge Courtenay says ’at he ’ll get 
it copied out ‘ fair an’ square,’ an’ then printed ; 
an’ the world ’ll have to see that it takes ‘more ’n 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 235 

blindness to kill a brave man,’ — so there! And 
he does n’t groan, either. Since he ’s thought 
’bout this book business he ’s just as jolly as he 
used to be, an’ never lets Grandmother nor me 
nor anybody see if he feels bad — not once ! 
S’posin’ he got the hypo, too ! Would n’t Grand- 
mother an’ Mary Jane an’ me have a terr’ble 
time, then ? ” 

“ Hm-m. I don’t see where Mary Jane ’s sech 
a great Christian ! My-soul-I-declare ! I hain’t 
seen her tetch her Bible once sence we begun ter 
tear up.” 

“ That ’s it ! That ’s just it ! My father says 
’at she has its teachings so deep down inside her 
’at she can’t forget them, an’ doesn’t need to 
read ’em so much. He says her keeping the 
meals regular an’ well-cooked, an’ the house sun- 
shiny an’ clean, an’ herself good-tempered through 
all her hard work, has taught him a beautiful 
lesson. Think of it ! Just Mary Jane teaching 
my papa ! Anyhow, I love her, an’ T came to 
bid her good-by. ’Cause I ’m off to Rookwood 
an’ lessons an’ fun, now ! Where is she ? Do 
you know ? ” 

“No, ner keer; an’ you’re a ungrateful little 
girl. Thar I sot, all yisterday arternoon, a crack- 
in’ butternuts an’ pickin’ the meats fer ye — * 


236 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

an’ ye never! Well, well; it’s a hard kind o’ 
world.” 

“ Puss-ley ! Do shet up, an’ git up an’ take 
a holt o’ some kind o’ job, brother Resolved ! 
You’re enough ter make a critter backslide, a 
lookin’ at yer limpsey-lumpsey laziness ! ” 

“ Thar ! Thar Steenie Calthorp ! Ye hear 
her ? That ’s yer fine Ch — ” 

“ Please don’t quarrel, dear folks ! Don’t ! An’ 
it is n’t so bad, is it? -JWe ’ll all be so cosey an’ 
cunning in the little new house. Good-by, Mary 
Jane. Dear, dear Mary Jane ! I love you ! 
You ’re so lively an’ kind, an’ fly-about-y ! You 
make everybody feel so good, dear Mary Jane ! 
Good-by 

At the door the child paused ; her conscience 
upbraided her for manifesting the partiality she 
could not help feeling, and with a sudden dash 
across the room, she caught Mr. Tubbs’s neck in 
her arms and gave him a hearty kiss. Then she 
darted out again, and in a moment was speed- 
ing down the street toward Rookwood, where 
she still went every day, but now quite 
by herself. Tito had for some weeks been 
domiciled in Judge Courtenay’s roomy stables, 
and his little mistress saw him daily. Almost 
daily, also, she had a long ride on his back, so 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 237 

that she scarcely missed him from the High- 
Street home ; and thus one trouble which had 
seemed unendurable in prospect became quite 
the contrary in reality. 

“ Because, you see, Mary Jane, they is n’t any 
nice cunning little barn to keep him in at the 
new cottage, so I ’m glad, after all.” 

“ Yis, dearie; an’ so you’ll find out, long’s 
you live. Trouble is a great hand ter stan’ a 
ways off an’ make up faces at ye ; an’ ye feel 
’s if ye could n’t endure it, no w T ay. But jest 
you pluck up spunk ever’ time, an’ march 
straight up ter the old thing, and there, — lo ! an’ 
behold ! — she ’s a grinnin’ an’ a smilin’ as if 
she ’s the best friend you ’ve got. An’ most the 
times she is. Folks ’at don’t have no real trou- 
ble ter git along with, don’t gen’ally amount ter 
shucks. Life ain’t all catnip ; an’ it hain’t meant 
ter be. An’ ye better, by far, bear the yoke in 
yer youth ’an in yer old age.” 

“ Like Mr. Resolved ? He ’s bearing it now, 
isn’t he, in his old age? Is that what you 
mean ? ” 

“ Not by a jug-full ! He ain’t a bearin’ — 
nothin’ ; he ’s squat right down under it, an’ a 
lettin’ it squash all the marrer o’ religion out o’ 
his poor old bones. Foolish brother Resolved ! 


238 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

I ’ve be’n a bolsterin’ an’ a highsterin’ him up all 
my life, an’ I \spect I ’ll have ter continner on ter 
the end. No matter ; I did n’t have the choosin’ 
o’ my own trials er 1 would n’t a chose that kind 
o’ relations. An’ the good Lord is a lookin’ out 
fer poor Mary Jane ; so why should she bother 
ter look out fer herself ? ” 

Even the sorrow of losing Sutro had taken 
on a softer aspect when, after his first night’s 
absence, Steenie learned from Judge Courtenay 
that the old caballero had been at Rookwood 
just at nightfall, had remained long enough to 
“ transact some business ” with himself, and then 
had started on a late train across the continent 
to Santa Felisa. The Judge had also given her 
Sutro’s last loving message : — 

“ Tell, mi nina, that her love has made old 
Sutro Vives a better man. That he could not 
stay to be a burden to anybody ; that he ’ll be 
well and happy in the spot where he was born ; 
and that he goes to make his last home on his 
own property of Santa Trinidad. Caramba ! He 
will rest well, with old Californian soil for his 
bed, and Californian sunshine for his blanket. 
Thou wilt say to her these words, Senor Juez ?” 

When the gentleman answered warmly: “I 
will do everything I can for your 4 Little Lady 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 239 

of the Horse/ Senor Yives ; I will carry out your 
instructions to the letter/’ Sutro murmured : 
“ Ten thousand thanks, most generous. Gracias 
a Dios ! I shall see San’ Felis once more ! ” and 
departed . 

But all this was sometime past; and as Steenie 
went now to Rookwood, the brilliant autumn 
leaves were beginning to fade on the paths, and 
the Michaelmas daisies bloomed thickly by the 
roadside. She passed along, a gay, cheerful, 
loving little maiden, feeling that the world held 
but one trouble for her now, and that one so far 
beyond her power to remove, that she was trying 
to “ march straight up to it,” and see if it would 
smile at her, as Mary Jane had said. 

The trouble has probably been foreseen; and 
Judge Courtenay put it into words for her as she 
danced up to the porch where he was pacing, and 
swept him a grave, graceful Spanish “ courtesy,” 
that she had learned “ at home ” from dark-eyed 
Suzan'. 

“ Good-morning, good-morning, Miss Sunbeam ! 
You look as bright as if we elder people were 
not worrying our heads off this minute! So 
when does the ‘ flitting ’ occur ? The removal 
from High Street to that miserable cottage ? ” 

“ To-morrow, sir, thank you ! An’, please 


240 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

’xcuse me, but it is n’t mis’able. It’s as pretty 
as it can be, I think.” 

“And ‘I think’ settles it, eh? Well, well; 
you ought to thank Heaven for your tempera- 
ment ! Now if I only had it, I should n’t be 
feeling this minute angry enough to ‘ bite a ten- 
penny nail in two.’ ” 

Down sat the funny gentleman in the big 
Plymouth rocker, and opened his arms to “his 
other little girl,” who nestled in them quite as 
confidently and almost as lovingly as Beatrice 
would have done. “ Why, sir, whatever can be 
the matter to make you — look cross ? ” 

“ I look it, too, do I ? — as well as feel it. 
Hm-in. Thank you. Children, et cetera, — truth, 
you know. First reason, please : I’m deserted. 
My wife and daughter are busy with all these 
guests, and I’ve had to retreat to the school- 
room for a bit of quiet.” 

“ Never mind. They have to be p’lite, I 
s’pose. My grandmother says ’at folks who live 
in high stations, like you do, owes great ’sponsi- 
bilities to s’ciety an’ its demandings.” 

“ Your grandmother is an oracle ! She ’s mak- 
ing you one. But draw up that other chair and 
hear me grumble ; it does me good to express 
myself to somebody. My wife says that I cannot 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 241 

keep anything, save clients’ business, to myself. 
Hin-m. What do you think of that ? ” 

“ I s’pose she knows, prob’ly. But am I to 
have no lessons ? ” 

“ No. Not unless you are suffering to rattle 
off : 4 1 have been, thou hast been or you have 
been, he has been,’ — and all the rest of it. 
Seems to me I heard you say, yesterday, that 
you thought grammar was not very ‘ exciting,’ 
eh?” 

“ Oh ! no, sir, it is n’t ! And if I could have 
a holiday, maybe Diablo could have another 
waltzing lesson, could n’t he ? He ’s such a 
graceful, teachable horse, I love him ! ” 

“ So do I, thanks to your wise interpretation 
of his character. But Diablo is n’t in to-day’s 
programme. And I ’m greatly disturbed, absurdly 
disturbed, for such a foolish cause. However, I 
cannot help it, cannot throw it off.” 

“ Can I help it ? I wish I could ! What is 
the thing ’at disturbs you ? ” 

“ The afternoon’s race.” 

“ Why — what ? I thought everything was all 
fixed. I hope it is n’t given up, is it ? ” 

“Not yet. Nor do I like to postpone it; 
but — There comes John with a telegram. I 
hope a favorable one.” 


16 


242 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

The race referred to was a proposed contest for 
supremacy to be held at the “private track” of 
Rookwood, between the Courtenay horses and 
those of neighboring county magnates. As has 
been said before, that part of the state was 
famous for its fine stock ; and these millionnaire 
owners of world-renowned animals spared no ex- 
pense in the indulgence of their equine “ hobby,” 
or the furtherance of their ambition to lead in 
the matter of speed and purity of breed. 

Steenie had been deeply interested in the prep- 
arations, and her heart beat in sympathy with a 
distress she had now learned was connected with 
the day’s event. 

“Pshaw! It’s too bad! Too contemptibly 
pitiful and mean ! I can’t get the other jockey, 
either ! ” exclaimed the Judge, thrusting the yel- 
low missive behind him, and striding up and down 
the school-room porch. 

Steenie waited but a moment, then she stole to 
his side, slipped her warm little hand into his 
great palm, and made an absurd attempt with 
her own shorter limbs to equal the pace of her 
perplexed friend. 

“ Hm-m. You good little thing ! But even 
your encouragement can’t help me now.” 

“Would you just as lief tell me what it is? 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 243 

Maybe I could help, maybe. I bn awful anx- 
ious to, ’cause, ’cause — you ’re so good to me an’ 
every single body. Maybe I can.” 

“ I wish you could ! If you were a boy ! 
Hm-m. No use. Yet it is so trying to be balked 
by a little thing like that ! ” 

“ Like what, sir ? ” 

“ Oh, you persistent little monkey ! There — 
you know I mean that for a compliment ! Come 
then, sit you down and hear an old simpleton’s 
trouble, then laugh at him as you laugh at all 
annoyance.” 

“But not folks. Dear Judge Courtenay, I 
don’t mean to laugh at folks.” 

“ You don’t ! Listen. You know Lady Trix ? ” 

“ Course.” 

“ You know she ’s fast, don’t you ? ” 

“ Faster ’n lightning ! ” 

“ Pretty near, I declare. Well, you know, 
also, that boy Tretter who was going to ride her 
against Doctor Gerould’s Mordaunt ? ” 

“Yes. Well?” 

“ Anything but well ! That imp has gone and 
tumbled off a wood-shed roof, playing circus, and 
broke his leg.” 

“ Oh, my ! Poor Tretter ! ” 

“ Poor Tretter ? Poor Courtenay ! Lady Trix 


244 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

was never ridden by anybody else, at any such 
time as this. He was just right weight, and had 
a good head, — or I thought that he had till this 
performance.” 

“But I s’pose he couldn’t help it.” 

“ Could n’t help it ? What did he get up there 
for, any way ? I ’d have given him a thousand dol- 
lars to stay off that roof, — or at least to post- 
pone the leg-break for another twenty-four hours.” 

Steenie gazed at her old friend’s face in aston- 
ishment ; then her own countenance flushed. 
“ Oh, I said maybe I could help you, and I can 
— I can ! ” 

“ What ? Do you know any jockey round 
here, worth a cent ? One that Trix will bear ? ” 
asked the other, eagerly. 

“ No, sir. I ain’t ’quainted with any jockeys 
in Old Knollsboro ; but I — can ride her.” 

There was utter silence for an instant, and the 
horse-fancier’s face brightened. “You?” Then 
it sobered again. “ Thank you, dearie, but that 
would n’t answer.” 

“ Why would n’t it ? I ’m sure I could ! And 
I want you to win ; I do, I do ! I ’d be so glad ! 
Do let me try?” 

“ Steenie Calthorp, don’t tempt me ; in a case 
like this my will is water ! ” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 245 

“ But why not ? Don’t you know that I could ? 
Have n’t you seen me ride Diablo bareback, — 
standing — sitting — every way ? And once, be- 
fore I knew bow ’ticular you were ’bout her, I 
came dreadful near riding Trixie myself, — I did, 
indeed, only Beatrice told me better. But I could. 
May n’t I ? ” 

“ I want to win ! ” 

“ I will.” 

u How do you know ? ” 

“ Try me ; please try me ! You ’ve done things 
an’ things an’ things — for me ; an’ now — please 
let me do this wee, wee little thing for you.” 

“ Wee ? It ’s a tremendous undertaking.” 

“ Pouf ! ” Steenie shrugged her shoulders in 
one of her little Spanish fashions, and made a 
motion of blowing thistle-down from her finger- 
tips. “ Wait till I tell you. Do sit down a 
minute, please. I can ride anything. I can 
ride standing, an’ jumping through rings, an’ 
over hurdles, an’ any way a horse can go I can 
ride. If you ’ll let me show you now, — once 
this morning, — before everybody much is on the 
track, I ’ll make you see. Then you ’ll say yes, 
won’t you ? ” 

“ Steenie — I’m — I’m wax. But your grand- 
mother — Do with me as you will ! ” cried the 


246 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Judge, comically, but looking very much relieved. 
“ And there certainly is no harm in your riding 
Trixie once, now — as you say.” 

Within the next half-hour Steenie demonstrated 
fully her ability to ride Lady Trix, “ anyhow, 
any shape,” and to that sensitive animal’s per- 
fect satisfaction, which, in such a case, was far 
more important than the satisfaction of her 
master. 

“ But, my little girl, what shall we say to the 
people at home ? What will they think of me 
as a guardian for their jealously-loved child?” 

Steenie sat thoughtful for a moment ; then 
her face cleared. “ They ’ll say I ought to do it 
if I can, — that is, if he was here to know ’bout 
it my father would say so. He tells me all the 
time to show my ’predation of your kindness; 
an’ how am I going to if you don’t let me have 
any chance ? The only one way I can do things 
for you is through your horses, ’cause I know 
’bout ’em. Is n’t it ? I ’m puffectly sure my 
father would say yes.’’ 

The Judge was reasonably certain of that also ; 
but he was not so positive concerning Madam’s 
opinion. However, his inclination urged him so 
strongly that he at last replied : “ Then, my brave, 
helpful little girl, hear me. If I let you ride you 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 247 

must take the thousand dollars I offered. Wait — 
listen — understand. It is the want of just that 
paltry sum which necessitates your grandmother’s 
leaving her old home ; she was ‘ short ’ just that 
amount in her indebtedness, or ‘liability/ after 
the farm was sold. To raise this money she is 
to sell her home. She would not accept the loan 
of it, because she saw no way of ever repaying 
it ; and if your dear father’s writing ever comes 
to anything, it will be in the future, — some 
distance. 

“ If you ride and win the race you must con- 
sider that you earn the money fairly; and must 
take it. Else — no — decidedly — to the whole 
proposition.” 

Again Steenie considered seriously. Her hesi- 
tation was not for herself, of course, but for that 
proud old lady whom she so loved and, also, 
feared. “ If I earned it that way it could n’t be 
wrong, could it ? To keep a dear grandmother 
in ‘the home of her youth.’ My father says 
what we do things for, makes the things hono’ble, 
or dishono’ble. That was ’bout the riding-school. 
He would have let me, only he didn’t like — 
You know. ’Count o’ Grandmother. This won’t 
be wrong, will it ?” 

“ From my point of view it seems very right, 


248 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

in every way ; unless you are afraid of the horse, 
or the publicity.” 

u What ’s that ? ” 

“The people, — the being stared at. Will it 
make any difference with your nerves ? ” 

“ No ! Oh, no ! Grandmother says I have n’t 
any nerves, she guesses. And I ’m not afraid of 
folks — no more than horses. Why should I be? 
They ’re awful nice to me. Everybody is.” 

“ How can they help being ? Is it a compact, 
then ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, yes ! Oh, what fun ! It makes 
me think of San’ Felis’ an’ my dear ‘ boys,’ an’ 
most of all of darling Bob. He ’d be proud of 
the Little Un, would n’t he ? Oh, if he only 
knew ! ” She turned from Trixie’s stall toward 
the stable-door, and looked up at somebody 
who stood there, the attendant groom, she had 
supposed. 

“ He does, Little Un ! Here he is ! All the 
way from Californy to see you win ! ” 

“ Bob ! My Bob ! ” 


CHAPTER XVI. 




‘HAT? What is 
this ? ” J udge Cour- 
tenay looked incredu- 
lously around ; and 
there was Steenie 
clasping her arms about 
the neck of a tall stran- 
ger who had knelt 
upon the stable 
floor, the better to 
receive her caress, 
and whose brown, 
honest face shone with a delight which matched 
her own. “Bob, is it? Why, sir, I know all 
about you ! And right glad I am to see you.” 

“ The same, sir. Judge Courtenay, I presume. 
Just got in from the West. Hunted up the 
‘ boss ’ first, and he shipped me on here. Knew 
it would n’t do to keep my eyes from the sight of 
this here young lady, not no longer ’n necessary, 


STEENIE AND LADY TRIX. 


250 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Oh, Bob, why did n’t you send me word so 
that I could have been ’xpecting you ? I’m so 
glad — glad — glad ! ” 

“ Glad I did n’t, hey ? But you ’ve growed ! 
You ’ve growed a power sence I lifted you aboard 
cars at San’ Felis’ station. How ’s ever’thing? ” 
“ Every thing ? Well. No — I don’t know. 
Did Sutro Yives get safely back home ? ” 

“Yes; Sutry’s all right,” answered the Ken- 
tuckian, quietly, and fixing a significant glance 
upon Judge Courtenay’s face. “ But let me in on 
this racket. What is it? A horse-race, eh ? ” 

“ Yes ; and 1 ’m to drive and ride this beauty. 
I must win, Bob ! I must. But now I know I 
shall — with you on hand to ’courage me. Oh, 
I ’m so glad, so glad ! ” 

“ Give me the hull business. What ’s about 
this thousand dollars ? ” 

“ Down here, — sit right down here, an’ wait 
till I tell you.” Down sat the ranchman, obe- 
diently, and Steenie close beside him, while she 
poured into his ears a rapid history of what had 
befallen her since her departure from her child- 
hood’s home. 

Much of this he had already learned from her 
letters : much more Sutro had told him ; but this 
last threatened calamity — the family moving on 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 251 

the morrow from the old house in High Street to 
the tiny cottage in the suburbs — and the priva- 
tions which menaced this child so dear to him, 
was news and sad news. Still, he had come East 
to put his own powerful shoulder to the burden 
his beloved Little Un was so bravely trying to 
lift with her own childish strength, and there 
“ was no such word as fail ” in Kentucky Bob’s 
vocabulary. 

“Well! Where ’s yer rig-out ? Ain’t a goin’ 
to ’pear afore the assembled multitudes in just 
that flimsy frock, are you, — or is it a new 
style ? ” 

“No! Course not. Did I ever? But I’ve 
the cutest little habit ’at ever was ! Grand- 
mother had it made for me ; ’cause Mary Jane 
said, 4 If I was bound ter break my neck, I’d 
better break it lookin’ ’spectable.’ Ob, that 
Mary Jane ! She ’s the dearest, best, funniest 
little old body ; moves all of a jerk, an’ so quick 
she makes Mr. Resolved dizzy to watch her, — so 
he says. He ’s way down, down at the bottom 
of everything, all the whole time ; but he has 
the lumbago, an’ it ’s that I s’pose. Though 
she ’s his sister an’ she does n’t get hypoey, never. 
An’ — oh, my habit ? Why, you see, dear Bob, 
when we had to sell Tito — ” 


252 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Wh-at ? Say that again. ’Pears like I don’t 
understand very sharp.” 

“ Did n’t I tell you ’bout that ? But it was so. 
We couldn’t ’ford to keep him, my grandmother 
says ; an’ Judge Courtenay bought him ; an’ Papa 
put the money in the savings bank toward my 
education, ’cause he said it was a’most like takin’ 
money for folks, an’ it should n’t be used ’cept for 
the best purpose. And dear Mrs. Courtenay 
made me bring my habit an’ keep it here ; so ’s 
when I ’ve done my lessons extra well I can have 
a ride on Tito for a ‘ reward.’ Anyhow, I see 
him every day ; an’ I Ve ’xplained it to him best 
I could ; but he does n’t understand it very well, 
I think. Any way he does n’t behave real nice. 
When I go away he whinnies an’ cries an’ acts 
— he acts quite naughty, sometimes. But he 
ought n’t ; for everybody is as good as good to 
him. Come and see him this minute.” 

Away went the reunited friends, and Tito’s 
intelligent eyes lighted with almost human joy 
when his kind old instructor laid a caressing 
hand upon his head, and cried out gayly : 
“ Howdy, old boy ! Shake, my hearty, shake ! ” 

Up went Tito’s graceful fore-leg, and u shake ” 
it was, literally and emphatically. When this 
ceremony was over and the magnificent stables 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 253 

of Rookwood had been duly examined and ad- 
mired, Steenie was commissioned to bring her 
friend into dinner, which was early that day on 
account of the afternoon’s arrangements. During 
its progress, Bob managed to give considerable 
information concerning Santa Felisa happenings, 
as well as dispose of a hearty meal. He had 
“ begged off ” from going to table with “ these 
high-toned Easteners ; ’cause you know, Little Un, 
’t I never et to no comp’ny table nowheres, — not 
even to your ’n an’ your pa’s. I ’m a free-born 
American, an’ all that rubbish — but I know 
what ’s what : the more for that reason. In — 
my place I ’m as good as the next feller an’-a- 
little-better-too-sir ; but outen it — I ’in outen it. 
Them ’at rides the plains an’ looks arter stawk, 
as I ’ve done the last hunderd years, more or 
less, hain’t learned to dip their fingers into no 
fingerbowls nor wipe their mustache on no fringed 
napkins.” 

But Judge Courtenay overruled the stranger’s 
objections, and once having accepted the situa- 
tion, Bob made the best of it. He was awkward, 
of course, and ignorant concerning table etiquette ; 
but he let his awkwardness apologize for itself by 
his simple good nature in the matter ; and if his 
talk was not polished, it was full of wit, origi- 


254 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

nality, and a verve that carried his listeners 
captive. 

“Well!” said Mrs. Courtenay, when at last 
they could no longer delay their rising from the 
board, “ I do not know when I have enjoyed 
anything so much as your descriptions of ranch- 
life. It is almost as good as seeing it for myself; 
and it gives me a real longing for its breeziness 
and freedom from social cares and restrictions.” 

“ It ’s the only life worth livin’, ma’am, in my 
opinion. Which same I don’t go for to set up 
ag’in that of any other man or woman, only for 
myself. I — I couldn’t exist anywheres elst, 
for any great length o’ time. I don’t want 
nothin’ less ’an a ten-mile field to swing my long 
arms round in. There ain’t — But, what ’s the 
use ? If I talked all day I could n’t tell nobody 
what them big open spaces o’ airth an’ sky is to 
me ; an’ if they ’s a good Lord anywheres about, 
He ’s out there in them blossomin’ plains an’ 
snow-capped mountains an’ etarnal sunshine. 

“My old Marm uset ter sing ’bout the c Beauti- 
ful Heaven above,’ an’ ’pear to enjoy thinkin’ on 
’t ; an’ once I ast her what she ’lowed it was like. 
She said if ’t was like anything she knowed, she ’d 
ruther it ’d be like Salem village, — out hum 
in the State o’ Massachusetts, — an’ ary other 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 255 

place she ’d ever seen. But I don’t want no vil- 
lages in mine ; an’ if ever I git thar I don’t ask 
no purtier place ’an Calif orny to go rid in’ round 
in, forever an’ ever. Amen.” 

“ Ah ! Well, to most of us, probably, Heaven 
is typical of what we like best,” said the Judge, 
gravely, and led the way library-ward. Where, 
for a while, he held a most absorbing conversa- 
tion with this stranger from the West; and 
when it was ended his genial countenance was 
even more serious than before. 

Then came the shouts of the children, eager 
to be off to the “ course ; ” and thither, presently, 
everybody repaired. 

“ Well, Little Un, you look prime ! Bless my 
eyes ! ’.Pears ye ’ve growed more ’n five months’ 
wuth, in these five months o’ time, long as they 
has be’n to old Bob, without ye. An’, huckle- 
berries ! They is quite a crowd around, ain’t 
they ! Well, you don’t mind that none, do 
ye?” 

“ Why, of course not ; an’, Bob, let me tell 
you, you stand in some certain place, — you pick 
out where, — an’ every time I go round I ’ll look 
at you, see? Then you can make all the old 
signs you used to make, an’ it’ll be a’most as 
good as Santa Felisa. But, think of it! A 


256 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

thousand dollars ! I want to win just as much. 
I truly do. Don’t I ? If only for Judge Courte- 
nay’s sake, ’cause he ’s so dear an’ kind, an’ he ’s 
Beatrice’s papa, — an’ I love her so very, very 
much. But most of all, now — an’ it grows 
more an’ more so — I w T ish to get that money so 
my darling old grandmother won’t have to leave 
her own home an’ her pretty library, nor any- 
thing. Oh, do you think I ’ll do it ? ” 

“ Sartain. Sartain as I live. But you an’ 
I’ve got a job to tackle arterwards. Look at 
these horses round here ! Did ye ever see sech 
a lot o’ poor, tortured, mis’able critters? Look 
at that check-strap yonder ! The man ’at owns 
the poor thing ’pears quite peart an’ quality-like, 
hut he’s a fool all the same. Wish I could hitch 
a string to his front lock o’ hair an’ yank his 
idiotic old head over back’ards, same way ! Bet 
he would n’t go trot, trot, round that peaceable. 
No, siree, he’d yell like a painter, an’ smash 
things if he couldn’t get loose. An that other 
nincompoop further down that way, see that 
breechin’ he ’s put on his horse ? He ’d oughter 
be shot, ’cause big ’s the world is thar ain’t room 
enough in it for sech idiots as him ! If I was 
that horse I ’d set right down on that strap an’ 
go to sleep, I would.” 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 257 

“ Oh, you dear old scolder ! You’ll see lots o’ 
cruelty to horses here in Old Knollsboro ; but 
the folks don’t understand ’em as well as you an’ 
I do. That ’s the reason. My father says it 
is n’t ’tentional unkindness, it ’s only ignorance. 
Ah ! There they are calling me. Come ! ” 

The news had spread that Judge Courtenay 
had found a jockey to ride his Trix, and one who 
was to drive her in the trainer’s place ; so the 
spirit of his wealthy opponent sank a little. 
However, an untried, unpractised assistant, as 
this new hand must be, was quite as liable to 
lose as win the contest for his employer, even 
though the animal he rode was unequalled for 
speed. This second thought sent a thrill of satis- 
faction to the heart of Doctor Gerould, the mas- 
ter of Rookwood’s rival, and he now felt confident 
of his own success. Like his friend, the Judge, 
he was warmly enthusiastic over his “hobby,” 
and would, in the height of his excitement, have 
gone to any honest length to carry off that day’s 
laurels. 

But when, after some preliminary contests 
between inferior beasts, the real one began, and 
the four thoroughbreds who were to compete for 
the famous “Rookwood cup” were drawn into 
line at the starting place, he saw the girlish little 
17 


258 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

figure which was lifted into the sulky behind 
Trixie, his courage ebbed again. 

“ That child ! Why how in the world did 
he obtain her family’s consent 1 ” exclaimed a 
neighbor. 

“ No matter how ; there she is.” 

“ But, have confidence, sir. She ’s only a girl. 
She cannot have the wisdom and skill — ” 

“ Cannot she ? Maybe you have n’t heard 
about her; though, wasn’t it yourself expatiat- 
ing upon her wonderful riding over our country- 
roads on her piebald mount ? Why, man alive, 
the child ’s a witch ! So they claim ; and — 
Jupiter ! If they have n’t imported a regular 
‘Wild Westerner’ besides! Well, I might as 
well give it up. Mordaunt’s beaten.” 

Kentucky Bob was moving about Trixie as 
she stood waiting, examining every strap and 
buckle of the light harness she wore, testing 
its strength and that of the skeleton-like vehicle 
in which he had placed his beloved “ Little 
Lady of the Horse.” His gaunt face was grave 
and anxious. He did not like this experiment- 
ing with untried animals, and at such a stake. 
Still, he knew the mettle of the driver if 
not the steed, and his superstitious faith in 
Steenie’s ability to succeed everywhere and in 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 259 

everything made his words cheerful, if not his 
heart wholly so. 

“ I come jest in time, did n’t I, Little Un ? 
An’ don’t you get excited an’ ferget. You take 
the outside. Thar ain’t no legs in this show ’cept 
Trixie’s an’ that Mordaunt’s thar. Them two 
other critters ’ll drop out in no time ; then you 
jest keep a steady head — an’ hand — an the out- 
side ! Don’t you ferget it. I ain’t a goin’ to have 
ye crowded up ag’in no railin’ an’ so caught an’ 
beat — mebbe hurt. Keep to the outside, though 
they be so p’lite as ter offer ye the inside show. 
Steady, is the word. Go it slow — warm her 
up — put on steam — get in ahead. Thar ye 
go ! Californy to win ! ” 

But not so easily. It was a contest hardly, 
barely won. Yet it was won — and honestly ; 
and, the driving over, Steenie was swung to the 
ground once more by her attentive Bob, who 
was far more pleased and proud than she. 

“ Ye did it, Little Un ! Ye did it ! Though, 
o’ course, I did n’t expect nothin’ else o’ my 
‘ Mascot ’ ! ” 

But the child’s face was downcast. The cheers 
and plaudits which followed her as she went into 
the waiting-room were almost unheard and quite 
unnoticed, and she bounded toward Judge Cour- 


260 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

tenay with actual tears of vexation in her blue 
eyes. “ Oh, I ’m so sorry ! You ’ll never have 
any faith in me again, will you ? ” 

“ Why, my dear little girl ! You ’ve won ! 
Did n’t you know that you had won ? ” cried 
the master of Rookwood, in high delight. 

“ Call it ‘ won,’ sir ? That little bit o’ ways ? 
Trixie should have been in a dozen lengths ahead, 
’stead of just a teeny, tiny bit ! I’m so sorry, 
so sorry ! ” 

That was the only way in which she could be 
induced to regard her victory ; but when, later 
on, the riding was announced, her vivacity and 
hopefulness returned. “ Now — I’m all right! 
I can ride — anything ! Same ’s I can breathe, 
just as easy. An’ see here, my Lady Trix, you 
have got to ’xert yourself this time, you dear, 
beautiful, lazy thing ! You hear ? If you don’t, 
I ’ll never speak to you again as long as I live ! 
So there, my dainty one ! ” 

Whether Trixie understood, who can tell ? 
Certainly the dire calamity her small friend 
threatened was not destined to befall the proud 
queen of Judge Courtenay’s stables. Maybe 
because riding was, as Steenie said, more natural 
to her than driving, it was evident from the word 
“ Go ! ” that she was the winner by long odds. 




















. 










































. V 

) 

















She kissed her hand to Beatrice. — Page 261 


▼N 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 261 

Almost it seemed, toward the last, that there 
was practically no contest at all ; but the truth 
was that such wonderful equestrianship as 
Steenie Cal thorp accomplished that day bad 
never been seen on that or any other course 
thereabouts. 

“ 1 ’m bound to beat ! — and beat so far that 
I ’ll feel all nice and clean about it in my heart, 
too ! ” she declared at starting ; then she kissed 
her hand to Beatrice, watching wide-eyed from 
a seat of honor, and rode gayly away to victory. 
With her little face smiling and rosy, yet tre- 
mendously in earnest, the far-away look in the 
bonny eyes, the aureole of sun -kissed ringlets 
streaming on the air, she seemed to communicate 
to her mount her very thoughts and feelings, 
— “ For Grandmother and Home ! ” 

It was love, then, that won ! — love and un- 
selfishness, which even in the person of a little 
child were irresistible, as they are always irre- 
sistible. And so well she did her part, so noble 
was her aim, that, now he had learned it, even 
Doctor Gerould lost every opposing wish. 

“Well! well! If that’s the case, I’d rather 
she’d beat than not — of course! — even if it 
damages Mordaunt’s record. And I ’ll double 
the price if they ’ll let me.” 


262 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ But, of course, also, that can’t be, my friend,” 
explained the Judge. “ It ’s just as probable as 
not that the Calthorp pride will up and make a 
rumpus about the whole matter, even now. I 
shall feel more comfortable after I know how 
the check is received. But if anything was 
ever honestly earned that was ! — and never 
did I draw one so willingly. There they go ! 
Good luck go with them ! ” 

There they went, indeed ! Riding in state 
through the streets of Old Knollsboro, in the 
Courtenay carriage, with the Courtenay livery 
on the box, and crowds of admiring people, re- 
turning village-ward, watching their progress. 
Straight from love’s triumph to the square white 
house in High Street, and to the brilliant smile 
of the polished old u lion ” on its door, a smile 
of welcome Steenie had long since learned to 
regard it. 

Grandmother Calthorp, sitting sadly at the 
window of her beloved and now denuded library, 
saw this royal approach, and wondered. Then 
her heart chilled with fear lest harm had be- 
fallen the child who had grown into its very 
depths, and had now become the centre of life to 
it, dearer than any other living creature, dearer 
even than the precious packed-away books which 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 263 


had for so long outranked humanity in the 
Madam’s estimation. 

But Steenie was not hurt ! A second glance 
showed that ; for through the hastily-donned 
eye-glasses the waiting woman saw that the 
child had risen in her place, and stood waving 
joyously above her head a tiny strip of paper, 
while the sparkling little face proclaimed in 
advance : “ Good news ! ” 

Then the carriage stopped ; and, although the 
bearer of the paper longed to jump out, she re- 
strained herself till the footman had opened the 
cumbrous door which stayed her impatient feet. 
Then, out upon the ground and up the path 
she sped, scarcely touching the ground in her 
eagerness. 

A noisy entrance, truly, but who could help 
that, or who reprove ? 

u Grandmother ! See here ! See here ! You 
need n’t move ! Never — never — never ! A 
thousand dollars ! A whole one thousand splen- 
did dollars ! I earned it ! I won the race ! For 
you — for you ! ” 

Then the white paper fluttered into the trem- 
bling old hands ; and Steenie’s dancing feet bore 
her swiftly from the room to find and share with 
the proud father her happy news. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


CONCLUSION. 


AND o’ Goshen! 
Madam ’s a 
cry in’ ! ” Mary 
Jane had rubbed 
her eyes repeat- 
edly, believing 
they deceived 
her ; but she was 
now forced to ad- 
mit the truth of 

RESOLVED AND MARY JANE. 

their report. 

“ ’T ain’t no sech a thing ! ” retorted Resolved, 
testily. Yet he advanced to peep over his sister’s 
shoulder at this startling phenomenon ; then 
he pushed his spectacles up out of place, the 
better to a see with his own eyes ” this unpre- 
cedented proceeding, and ejaculated : “ My-soul-I- 
declare ! ” 

This was what he beheld. 



THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 265 


Daniel Calthorp sitting near the window, lean- 
ing his brow upon his hand, not indeed to veil 
his sightless eyes from any untoward spectacle, 
but to hide the workings of his own face. 

Kentucky Bob standing in the doorway, un- 
easily shifting his great length from foot to foot, 
and ready for flight the instant things became 
“a trifle too tropercal fer a Westerner.’ , 

While Steenie was kneeling before the Madam’s 
chair, her warm little hands resting upon the 
worn white hands in the lady’s lap, and her eager, 
loving glances trying to interpret the conflicting 
emotions which pictured themselves upon the 
noble face above her. 

The worst sign of all, in Mary Jane’s opinion, 
was that her proud mistress evidently did n’t even 
care how many witnessed this unusual display of 
weakness. “ She ain’t a tryin’ ter hide nothin’ ! 
Not a tear ! Poor soul, poor soul ! She ’s a down 
deep in the waters o’ triberlation when she lets 
go o’ her hefty sperrit, an’ don’t mind us a seein’ 
what we do now. That ever I should a lived ter 
look at Madam Calthorp a weepin’ tears ! Oh, 
my soul, oh ! I did think ’at we ’d manage ter 
go out the old house, as Steenie says, ‘ colors 
flyin’ ’ an’ hearts braced up, even if bust. But 
when she — she — gins out, let us all gin out. 
Oh, me — me ! ” 


266 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Shat up carn’t ye ? Hark ! What ’s the 
youngun a say in’ ? ” 

Curiosity comforted the faithful old serving- 
woman’s immediate grief ; she paused in the 
very middle of a sigh to listen. 

“ Don’t look so, dear grandmother, darling 
grandmother ! Did I do so very, very wrong ? 
Do b’lieve me, I did n’t mean to. An’ — my ! 
Wait, Grandmother ! If you don’t want it, please 
don’t cry on poor Judge Courtenay’s check, ’cause 
Papa says — Oh, Grandmother ! Will you ? 
Will you?” 

The pantomime was more intelligible than the 
words. For the first time the stately head was 
bent slightly, — even under the relaxation of these 
unprecedented circumstances it had been held up- 
right, — and a sudden smile broke over the tear- 
wet face, making it beautiful as proud. 

Proud it had always been, but not as now 7 , 
proud with an unutterable tenderness, proud — 
even that paradox — in a new, sweet, and reve- 
rent humility, as the thin hands gently dropped 
upon the child’s curly head, and the tremulous 
lips found voice : “ Steenie, Steenie ! My brave, 
precious one ! Hush ! There is no reproach for 
you ; there is nothing but love and obligation. 
You have humbled me as I have never been hum- 


TOE LITTLE LADY OF TOE HORSE. 267 

bled in my life ; and you have made me proud 
as I have never been proud. You have conquered 
your grandmother, now come to her.” 

Steenie leaped, joyfully, into the arms opened 
to receive her, but the words which had fallen 
from the Madam’s lips mystified her, and she 
was still clinging about the speaker’s shoulders, 
looking doubtfully upon the narrow white check, 
which had fallen to the carpetless floor, when 
Bob’s resonant voice cut into a scene which was 
becoming “ too all-fired watery round the eyes 
for him,” and cleared the mystery. 

“ Which means, my Little Un, begging your 
pardon, Ma’am, an’ everybody’s pardon, that our 
4 Little Lady of the Horse ’ hain’t won her ticket 
for nothin’. Which bein’ the case — I say, old 
feller? You Unresolved old Puritan, you, I think 
I know a cure for your lumbago. Want to hear 
it?” 

“ Yes, yes,” answered Mr. Tubbs, eagerly. 

“Here ’t is. Price nothin’. Turn to an’ fetch 
a hammer an’ nails, an’ unroll that strip o’ carpet 
thar. I don’t relish the sound o’ my own boots 
on hard oak floors like this un, an’ the sooner we 
get the carpet back into place, the sooner I shall 
feel to hum. Lively, now. We ’ll get it down afore 
pitch-dark, even in this region o’ short days.” 


268 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

To picture Mr. Tubbs’s disgust is impossible. 
Then, even to his selfish heart, crept a warm, 
tender, human feeling, and he cast a sidelong 
glance at the mistress he had served so long, 
if not so well. 

Observing which, Bob, that clear-sighted trans- 
lator of people’s emotions, gave friendly encour- 
agement. “ That ’s the fust step. Second — look ! 
See here ? Look at this vial ? Know what it 
is ? Ever see anything so fine ? ” 

“Eh? No. What is it?” demanded Re- 
solved, who had a keen eye and ear for anything 
in the shape of “ medicine.” 

“ Rattlesnake ile, — that ’s what she is. Dou- 
ble distilled, an’ forty-thousandth purity. Vola- 
tile as gas. Can’t fix it in no ordinary bottles, 
with no ordinary stoppers. Worth its weight in 
gold ; worth more if it could n’t be replaced. 
Sample I brought from my Little Un’s property, 
— from the rancho er the mountain o’ Santa 
Trinidad. Hm ! Did n’t mean to say that — yet. 
But no matter. Step lively now. An’ if ye 
do, I ’ll rub some o’ this precious stuff on your 
worthless old back, an’ if I don’t bounce the 
lumbago, my name ain’t Bob, an’ I hain’t never 
rid on no Santa Felisa round-up.” 

There was tonic, elixir, in the very tone ; not 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE IIORSE. 269 


only for the stiif-jointed Mr. Tubbs, but for every 
individual there present. 

Mary Jane, proper Baptist that she was, almost 
executed a fancy dance ; but recollecting herself 
in time, went hurrying away to her kitchen, her 
cracked, quavering, but joyful voice proclaiming 
in song, — 

“ I ’ve reached a land of corn and wine, 

And all its riches freely mine. 

Here shines undimmed one blissful day, 

For all my night has passed away.” 

Mr. Calthorp crossed over and gave his mother 
a grateful kiss, then walked out whistling. 

Steenie slipped down and watched her grand- 
mother fold the beneficent scrap of white paper 
safely away in her pocket-book, then danced a 
pas-de-seul without any of Mary Jane’s scruples 
of conscience. 

And even Madam Calthorp began humming 
softly some melody of her youth, and moved the 
chairs out of the room, to further the cheerful 
labor of Kentucky Bob, who had the carpet 
unrolled and into place, “ in the jerk of a lamb’s 
tail,” and who whistled gayly, till he remem- 
bered that he was the guest of a high-bred lady, 
when he restrained himself, and worked away all 
the faster, maybe. 


270 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ My, is n’t it just too delightful to be happy ! ” 
cried small Steenie, in the fulness of her rapture ; 
and the instant laugh which greeted her quaint 
exclamation was answer sufficient. 

“ It ’s taken ferever ter git these things tore 
up an’ out o’ place ; but I guess they ’ll ’bout fly 
back inter it ag’in, o’ their own accord,” said Mary 
Jane, unwrapping the parlor “ table-spread ” and 
recklessly throwing away the string. While Re- 
solved puffed and stretched at that carpet, deter- 
mined to keep ahead of Bob’s resolute, speedy 
66 tack,” “ tack,” without one grunt or groan. 

Wasn’t it fun to put that old house “to 
rights” once more ? Wasn’t it? Such fun that, 
as Mary Jane prophesied, the furniture almost 
seemed to march itself back into position ; while 
Steenie was allowed, not only to handle, but to 
unpack and restore to their own shelves the pre- 
cious books which seemed “ folks a’most ” to their 
loving owner. 

But to all sunshine there is shadow. To the 
brightest day succeeds a twilight ; and a spiritual 
twilight fell upon these happy people, when, after 
all was done that could be done, they gathered 
about the blazing fire on the great hearth-stone 
in the dining-room, and heard the story which 
Kentucky Bob had come so far to tell. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF TIIE HORSE. 271 

“ ’Pears as if I did n’t know how to begin it. 
But I must ; though I ain’t no oraytor, I ain’t. 
Come a here, Little Un. The ‘ boss’ won’t mind 
a sparin’ of ye to me I ’low, an’ mebbe I kin talk 
straighter a feelin’ yer little hand in mine. Good 
little hand, strong little hand, lovin’ little hand, 
that takes right a holt o’ everybody’s heart an’ 
pulls it out o’ wickedness an’ inter the straight. 
Pulled old Sutry Vives out o’ malice an’ murder, 
ter live a Christian an’ die a martyr.” 

“What? What?” cried Steenie, aghast. 

“ Hush, Little Un, don ? t ! It ’s ’bout all old 
Bob kin do, anyhow — an’ — Don’t make a 
break in the perceedin’s ag’in, if ye kin help it, 
don’t ! ’Cause I ain’t much uset ter preachin’, 
an’ this here — is ’ bout a — funeral sermon /” 

He needed not to hush any one again, not even 
when the “ sermon ” was ended. 

“ Sutry, he come hum. When he come I hap- 
pened ter meet him, an’ when he stepped out o’ 
the car at San’ Felis’ T did n’t scurcely know him. 
Some o’ his folks lived above a hunderd ; but 
could n’t none on ’em ever looked so old as Sutry 
did that day. An’ when I spoke to him an’ told 
him c Howdy ! ’ he jest stared up inter my face — 
No matter ! He ’s square ; squarest man I ever 
knowed. 


272 THE LITTLE LADY OF TIIE HORSE. 

“He told me ’t he’d made his will. He’d gin 
ever’ thing he got ter the Little Un. 6 Every- 
thing you ’ve got ? ’ says I, laughin’, harsh like. 

“ ‘ Yes, La Trinidad.’ 

“ Then I laughed more, but — not long. That 
night he ast me ter take a couple o’ the boys, an’ 
go up inter that snake-infested peak with him. 
We didn’t wanter. Snakes hadn’t be’n trouble- 
some none, ’long back ; but, somehow, thar 
warn’t no refusin’, he looked that queer an’ 
un-Sutry like. So next mornin’ we went; an’ 
goin’ up he told me all the bad news ’bout you 
all, an’ his way o’ changin’ it inter good. He ’d 
foond out, he thought, ’at Steenie here could n’t 
’herit till he was dead. He could gin her any- 
thing he ’d a mind to ; but he knowed nobody 
would n’t b’lieve none o’ his big talk, long as he 
lived. But if it was her ’n, out an’ out, they ’d 
have ter try an’ see what this ’heritance was. 
He kinder impressed me even then ; an’ we went 
on quite chipper. Killed a few rattlers by the 
way, an’ went spang up an’ up, an’ then down 
ag’in, inter the very heart o’ the mountain. 
Then I seed thar’d be’n some prospectin’ done 
thar sometime. We found a trail an’ we fol- 
lered it. 

“ An’ I ain’t never laughed at Sutry Vives, ner 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 273 

La Trinidad property — sence. What he showed 
us was enough ter sober a drunken man arter a 
big spree. 

“ Then we started hum ag’in ; but, half-way 
down, Sutry called us ter stop. 

“ ‘ Boys,’ says he, ‘ ye ’ve seen what I showed 
ye. I picked you three out, ’cause you love the 
Little Un, an’ I kin trest ye. Sw’ar ’at you ’ll 
be true ter yer trest; sw’ar ter do the plumb 
square by the little Seenoreety.’ 

“ You bet we swore ! — all an’ more ’n he ast 
us. Then we went on ag’in, but Sutry didn’t 
foller. 

“ ‘ I feel like I ’d like ter stay here a little 
while alone,’ says he ; 6 an’ if I don’t come 

down in fair season, you kin come an’ hunt me 
up.’ 

“ ‘ Better not,’ says I. But he would ; an’ we, 
each on us, had our dooty ter do, an’ so we left 
him.” 

There was a long silence, broken, at last, by 
Steenie, asking softly: “ Well ? ” 

“Well, when I rec’lect that night — I — 
Huckleberries! Carn’t ye guess it? Think o’ 
the squarest thing a feller could do, an’ then 
know he done it, — that poor, laughed-at, de- 
spised, weak-witted old Don Sutry ! ” 

18 


274 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

“ Oh, tell me, Bob, please ! My heart ’s all 
suffocky, an’ I can’t breathe ! ” 

“ You ’low I could n’t rest. I kep’ a thinkin’ 
o’ that old vener’ble up thar, a takin’ his last 
look at a property ’at had be’n his ’n, er his 
folks, sence way back — an’ the lonesomeness 
an’ all — an’ I couldn’t stan’ it. So I started 
just arter moon-rise, an’ dumb up ag’in, callin’ 
myself names all the time fer a fool. An’ when 
I got to the very heart o’ the place — thar he 
lay, sleepin’ quiet an’ a’most a smilin’, — right 
thar in that den ! ” 

“ But you waked him up, Bob ? Quick — 
did n’t you ? ” 

u Yes, I did. Perhaps I had a job, though ! 
’Twas a close call fer the old caballero. An’ 
when I ’d rousted him a little, ye should a heered 
him pitch inter me ! ’Cause I would n’t let him 
lay still thar an’ die o’ rattlesnake bite ! ” 

u Why, Bob ? Why should he wish to die ? ” 

“ Fer your sake, Little Un ; to make you 
rich an’ happy an’ ever ’thing. An’ I ’low the 
notion was jest as noble as if he ’d be’n let ter 
finish it up as he meant.” 

“Well? The result?” asked Mr. Calthorp, 
impatiently. 

“Well, he’ll live, I reckin; but his old age 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 275 

won’t be not very flourishin’ ner green-bay-tree 
like. ’T was an even chance, ’bout. I carried 
him down on my back, an’ thar happened ter be 
an old Indian on hand ’at done his level best ; 
an’ he ’ll live. So they think. 

u But we had a tussle with him, fust. An’ not 
till Lord Plunkett himself, who had come round 
that way ag’in, was lugged inter the room ter 
hear the hull story, an’ ter promise ever’thing 
should be done same as if he died, would 
Sutry consent ter take the stuff old Pueblo 
forced down his throat. But, to all intents 
an’ purposes, he was a martyr, Sutry Vives 
was.” 

The graphic story cast over them all an awed 
and solemn feeling which made speech seem 
impossible. Till, after awhile, a half-charred 
stick fell into the coals, and Mary Jane looked 
up through her tears. “ Greater love hath no 
man than this,” said she, softly ; and even 
Resolved failed to sniff. 

Finally Madam Calthorp asked : “ What was 
in the mountain that made it so valuable in the 
old Spaniard’s eyes ? ” 

“ Smithing ’at when it’s developed — as Lord 
Plunkett an’ Jedge Courtenay has offered ter 
advance the funds fer — ’ill make the Little 


276 THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE. 

Un rich enough ter kindle fires with jest secli 
checks as she fetched home ter-day.” 

“ But I do not understand.” 

“ Silver, ma’am, silver. Quality, A one. 
Quantity, unlimited. That’s all it was.” 


THE END. 


Roberts Brothers' Juvenile Books . 


Dear Daughter Dorothy. 

BY MISS A. G. PLY MPT ON. 

With seven illustrations by the author. Small 4 to. Cloth. 


PRICE. $1.00. 



DEAR DAUGHTER DOROTHY. 


44 The child is father of the man,” — so Wordsworth sang ; and here is a jollj 
Story f a little girl who was her father’s mother in a very real way. There were 
hard lines for him,* and she was fruitful of devices to help him along, even hav- 
ing an auction of the pretty things that had been given her from time to time, and 
realizing a neat little sum. Then her father was accused of peculation ; and she, 
sweetly ignorant of the ways of justice, went to the judge and labored with him, 
to no effect, though he was wondrous kind. Then in court she gave just the 
wrong evidence, because it showed how poor her father was, and so established a 
presumption of his great necessity and desperation. But the Deus ex met china 
— the wicked partner — arrived at the right moment, and owned up, and the good 
tather was cleared, and little Daughter Dorrthy was made glad. But this meagrv 
summary gives but a poor idea of the ins and outs of this charming story, and m 
mea of the happy way in which it is told. — Christian Register. 

ROBERTS BROTHERS. Boston. 



JOLLY GOOD TIMES TO=DAY. 



By Mary P. Wells Smith, author of “Jolly Good Times/’ “The 
Browns,” “Their Canoe Trip,” “Jolly Good Times at Hackma- 
tack,” etc. i6mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Trice, #1.25. 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston, Mass. 


SUSAN COOLIDQE’S POPULAR BOOKS. 



By Susan Coolidge, author of “ What Katy Did,” “ The Barberry Bush, ’ 
“ A Guernsey Lily,” etc. i6mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, #1.25. 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston, Mass. 


ANOTHER GIRL’S EXPERIENCE. 



By Leigh Webster. i6mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.25. 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston, Mass, 


PENELOPE PRIG, 

AND OTHER STORIES . 



By A. G. PLYMPTON, 

AUTHOR OF “DEAR DAUGHTER DOROTHY,” “BETTY A BUTTERFLY, 
“THE LITTLE SISTER OF WILIFRED,” “ROBIN’S RECRUIT,” 

“ RAGS AND VELVET GOWNS.” 


Illustrated by the author. 

i 2 mo. Cloth . Price, $1.00. 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston, Mass. 


LOUISA M. ALCOTT'S WRITINGS 


Miss Alcott is really a benefactor of households. — H. H. 

Miss Alcott has a faculty of entering into the lives and feelings of children 
that is conspicuously wanting in most writers who address them ; and to this 
cause , to the consciousness among her readers that they are hearing about 
■people like themselves , instead of abstract qualities labelled with names , the 
popularity of her books is due. — Mrs. Sarah J. Hale. 

Dear Aunt Jo ! You are embalmed in the thoughts and loves of thou- 
sands of little men and women. — Exchange. 

♦ 


Little Women ; or Meg, Jo, 

Beth, and Amy. With illustra- 
tions. i6mo $1.50 

Hospital Sketches, and Camp 
and Fireside Stories. With 

illustrations. i6mo 1.50 

,\n Old-Fashioned Girl. With 

illustrations. i6mo 1.50 

Little Men : Life at Plumfield with 
Jo’s Boys. With illustrations. i6mo 1.50 
Jo’s Boys and How they Turned 
Out. A sequel to “ Little Men.” 

With portrait of “ Aunt Jo.” i6mo 1.50 
Eight Cousins ; or, The Aunt-Hill. 

With illustrations. i6mo ... 1.50 

Rose in Bloom. A sequel to 
“ Eight Cousins.” i6mo . . . 1.50 

Under the Lilacs. With illustra- 
tions. i6mo 1.50 

Jack and Jill. A Village Story. 

With illustrations. i6mo . . . 1.50 

Work: A Story (f Experience. 

With character illustrations by Sol 

Eytinge. i6mo 1.50 

Moods. A Novel. New edition, 


revised and enlarged. i6mo . . 1.50 

A Modern Mephistopheles, and 
A Whisper in the Dark. i6mo 1.50 
Silver Pitchers, and Indepen- 
dence. A Centennial Love Story. 

i6mo 1.25 

Proverb Stories. New edition, re- 
vised and enlarged. i6mo ... 1.25 

Spinning-Wheel Stories. With 

illustrations. i6mo 1.25 

A Garland for Girls, and Other 
Stories. With illustrations. i6mo 125 


My Boys, &c. First volume of 
Aunt Jo’s Scrap-Bag. i6mo . $1.00 

Shawl-Straps. Second volume of 


Aunt Jo’s Scrap-Bag. i6mo. . 1.00 

Cupid and Chow-Chow, &c. 

Third volume of Aunt Jo’s Scrap- 
Bag. i6mo 1.00 


My Girls, &c. Fourth volume of 
Aunt Jo’s Scrap-Bag. i6mo . . 1.00 

Jimmy’s Cruise in the Pinafore, 

&c. Fifth volume of Aunt Jo’s 

Scrap-Bag. i6mo 1.00 

An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiv- 
ing, &c. Sixth volume of Aunt 
Jo’s Scrap-Bag. i6mo .... 1.00 

Little Women. Illustrated. Em- 
bellished with nearly 200 charac- 
teristic illustrations from original 
designs drawn expressly for this 
edition of this noted American 
Classic. One small quarto, bound 
in cloth, with emblematic designs 2.50 
Little Women Series Compris- 
ing Little Women ; Little Men ; 

Eight Cousins ; Under the Lilacs ; 

An Old-Fashioned Girl ; Jo’s. 

Boys ; Rose in Bloom ; Jack and 
Jill. 8 large i6mo volumes in a 
handsome box ....... 12.00 

Miss Alcott’s novels in uniform bind- 
ing in sets. Moods ; Work ; Hos- 
pital Sketches ; A Modern Mephis- 
topheles, and A Whisper in the 


Dark. 4 volumes. i6mo . . . 6.00 

Lulu’s Library. Vols. I., II., 

111 . A collection of N ew Stories. 
i6mo ... 3.00 


These books are for sale at all bookstores , or will be mailed , post-paid, on 
receipt of price , to any address. 

ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 

Boston , Mass. 


BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR OF “ MISS TOOSEY’S 

MISSION” AND “LADDIE.” 

* 

MISS TOOSEY’S MISSION, AND LADDIE. By the 

author of “ Miss Toosey’s Mission.” Both in one volume. i6mo, 
50 cents. 

They are two of the most finished and strengthening stories one may find, 
although he seek long among choice stories. — Exchange 

TIP CAT. A Story. i6mo. $ 1 . 00 . 

It is not, as the name might indicate, the story of a cat, but of a young man 
who makes a brave effort to support his two little sisters. The children’s little 
amusements and artless way of relating them, and the brother’s unselfish devo- 
tion, are both pathetic and amusing. — Boston Traveller. 

OUR LITTLE ANN. i6mo. $1.00. 

It breathes a pure and wholesome spirit, and is treated in a wholly artistic 
and sympathetic manner. In every respect it is one of the most charming of 
recent fictions. — Post, Boston. , 

PEN. A Story. i6mo. $> 1 . 00 . 

“Pen” has the peculiar charm and 'pathos of the earlier books, with quite 
as much of interest. It is thoroughly wholesome and sweet in its tone, a book to 
put in the hands of all young people, or old ones either, for that matter. — Living 
Clnirch. 

LIL. A Story. i6mo. $1.00. 

One of those bright, sweet, and pure little tales of English domestic life. 
Both boys and girls will enjoy it. 

ZOE. A Story. i6mo. 60 cents. 

It tells of the power of a little life over the heart of a man made hard and 
bitter by the world’s disappointments, which resulted in winning him back to kind 
and loving ways. 

ROSE AND LAVENDER. A Story. i6mo. $1.00. 

A simple story of English country life, but a story that breathes goodness as 
a rose does fragrance. 

PRIS. A Story. i6mo. 50 cents. 

Pris was a neglected girl, left motherless at fourteen , who thenceforth assumed 
the charge of her father’s household, and gave her days and nights to unselfish 
and loving labor. It is a very sweet and pathetic story, filled with beaut'ful 
thoughts. 

DEAR. A Story. With Frontispiece, by Jessie McDermott. lCmo. 
Cloth. $i.oo. 

Just such a homely little story as “ Miss Toosey’s Mission ” is this latest 
story from her pen ; but we think it is such stories which we shall always find 
readable, and it is the writers r f such stories who will always hold a warm place 
in people’s hearts. — Boston Times. 

P.ABY JOHN. A Story. i6mo. 50 cents. 

A story that will hold every reader from the nursery to the library. — Budget 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, Boston 











































